Harry Potter and the Lightning Thief
by Pink Wolf Princess
Summary: HPJ Verse.  Clarisse, Harry, and Annabeth return to camp.  Luke's true colors are revealed.  And Harry's first quest is now complete.
1. Chapter 1: I Vaporize My Teacher

Hi. I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.

Okay, some people say that Percy & Harry have a lot in common- maybe a little too much. Well, let's see how much of that is true.

And yes, it'll be VERY close to canon in the beginning but it'll be going equally as off the rails soon enough.

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher<strong>

Harry Potter woke up, his head hurting like Dudley had smacked him into the ground again, on a beat-up bus. He was sitting next to a rather strange pre-teen: one with baggy jeans, crutches in front of him, acne, and a bit of hair on his chin.

"Percy? Are you okay?" he asked. Harry blinked, baffled. "Yeah, sure."

"Good, because- ack!" went the other pre-teen as a piece of sandwich hit him. And then another. Bewildered Harry looked around and saw a brown-haired girl with lots of freckles preparing a third piece of sandwich to throw at him. Picking up the first bit, Harry realized it was peanut butter and ketchup.

"What on Earth?" he asked. And then he repeated himself: "What on Earth?"

Because he was now speaking with an American accent instead of a British one, which made no sense. Taking a deep breath Harry turned to look out the window and nearly screamed.

His hair, while still black, was now neat. His eyes were sea green opposed to vivid green, and his lightning bolt scar was gone from his forehead. His facial features were less narrow, and he looked easily a year older. Maybe he was a year older. Furthermore, the view outside was of a city with tall buildings and bright lights.

"Percy… you're not okay, are you?" inquired the other boy, ignoring the piece of sandwich that had just landed in his hair.

"I'll be fine," Harry smiled weakly as the bus came to a halt before a large building. "Where are we going again?"

"The Metropolitan Museum of Art," he replied, studying Harry closely. "Mr. Brunner the Latin teacher and Mrs. Dodds, the pre-algebra teacher, are the chaperones."

"Oh, yeah," Harry nodded as if this wasn't new to him. He wasn't sure if the other boy was convinced.

Staying close to the other boy and away from the sandwich-throwing girl, who looked a bit like a female version of his cousin Dudley, Harry followed a greying man in a wheelchair and a wiry petite woman into the museum to the Greek art exhibit. While the man- Mr. Brunner- talked about Greek funeral art the sandwich-throwing girl kept talking. Mutely Harry just squirmed his way closer to the teacher and away from the girl to hear better. Whatever was going on, he'd better figure out fast before everyone realized he wasn't this Percy person.

"Ah, Percy," Mr. Brunner noticed him. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

Harry studied the image the teacher had gestured to. Luckily he had already learned some Greek myths. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner nodded, still looking at him expectantly. Hastily Harry racked his head. Mr. Brunner added, "And he did this because…"

"Um, Kronos had gotten a prophecy one of his kids would overthrow him like he had his dad so he ate them. But his wife didn't like that and fed Kronos a rock instead of Zeus and hid him. Later, Zeus tricked Kronos into throwing up his older siblings and there was a huge war where the gods won." Harry gulped after finishing, wondering if he'd gotten it all right.

"Throwing up people, gross," muttered someone. The sandwich-throwing girl grumbled, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job application, 'please explain why Kronos ate his kids'."

"And why, Mr. Jackson, to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," smiled the boy Harry had been sitting beside. Not that Harry could blame him; he had often wished for Dudley to get into trouble. And it looked like he'd gotten the first question right anyway.

"Shut up," hissed Miss Bofobit.

Taking a deep breath Harry stated, "Um, that trying to avoid prophecies coming true can make them come true?"

"Sometimes, yes," smiled Mr. Brunner wistfully. "Half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

Harry stayed put as everyone else drifted off, following the other teacher. Mr. Brunner wheeled up to him.

"Yes, Mr. Brunner?" Harry tried out the name. Mentally he tried out 'Percy Jackson'. It didn't feel right to him.

Steadily looking into his eyes Mr. Brunner informed him, "You must learn the answer to my question."

"About Kronos? He ate his kids…"

"No, about real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Um."

"What you learn from me is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

Yeah, that name wasn't his. And why did the Greek myths matter so much today, in distant America? And yet… maybe it could help explain why his hair grew back so fast after a haircut, why he found himself on the school roofs once while being chased by Dudley's gang, why he could shrink an ugly sweater. Harry nodded firmly.

"I will try my best, sir."

Mr. Brunner smiled tiredly before shifting his direction to a girl's stele, looking at it as if it was the headstone of someone he had known.

"Very well, Mr. Jackson. You're free to go outside and eat your lunch."

Nodding, Harry made his way outside. Overhead there were looming storm clouds, making Harry nervous and almost missing his lightning bolt scar. Some of the other students were pelting pigeons with crackers, Miss Bofobit was pick-pocketing a lady's purse, and the guy that seemed to know 'Percy' well was sitting on the fountain's edge, his crutches lying beside him. Harry wondered what sort of school he was attending as he joined him at the fountain.

"Detention?" he asked worriedly. With a wan smile Harry shook his head. "No. He was just… intense about me knowing all of this."

The other boy was quiet for a while. Even so, Harry liked the feeling of having a friend.

"Can I have your apple?"

"Sure," smiled Harry, passing it over. His stomach was in knots anyway as he watched all the traffic go by. He wondered what was going on. Suddenly he wished that his parents hadn't died in that traffic accident. At least he wouldn't have to live with Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley anymore.

Harry's eyes widened. Uh-oh, if he was Percy that meant Percy was him. Poor Percy. Troubled, he looked over to Mr. Brunner who was eating celery with a red umbrella poking up from the back of his chair while reading a novel. Would Mr. Brunner understand if he tried to explain? Or would he think that Harry had gone crazy?

Anxiously Harry began unwrapping his sandwich when Nancy Bobofit, with a few other girls behind her like Dudley's friends always were, came up and dumped the remains of her lunch into Grover's lap.

"Oops," she grinned at Harry, her teeth crooked. Clenching his fists, Harry glared at her. Even if he didn't know the boy's name, he was clearly a good guy and his friend. Suddenly he felt a wave roar through him.

Behind Harry the fountain exploded with water, soaking everyone in a ten foot radius. Everyone except for Harry.

"Percy did it!" screeched Miss Bobofit. Mrs. Dodds appeared out of nowhere next to the group.

"Did you see-"

"-all that water-"

"it like exploded-"

Harry didn't understand what had just happened; all he knew was that nothing like this had happened in public before. Breathing heavily, Harry tried to calm down. At least he couldn't get locked up in the cupboard again.

Once Mrs. Dodds had assured herself that Miss Bobofit was alright, she turned onto Harry. There was a disturbingly triumphant gleam in her eyes.

"Now, honey, come with me."

"Wait!" yelped the boy. "It was me, _I _pushed her."

Mrs. Dodds stared down haughtily at the preteen, causing his chin to tremble.

"I don't think so, Grover Underwood."

"But-" Grover protested. Mrs. Dodds overrode him, saying, "You- _will_- stay- here."

Panicked, Grover looked over at Harry. Running a hand through his now-straight hair Harry assured him, "It's okay. It'll be okay."

"Honey, _now_," barked Mrs. Dodds. Miss Bofobit smirked, making Harry glare at her back. In the meantime, Mrs. Dodds had gotten herself to the museum entrance at the top of the stairs. As she gestured impatiently for Harry to follow, Harry found himself wondering what exactly he had awakened into.

Hiding his nerves, Harry followed her deep into the museum, not looking back. Even here, he doubted anyone would or maybe even could come to his aid. Mrs. Dodds stopped in the Greek and Roman section, letting Harry catch up with her in the empty gallery.

Her arms were crossed before a large white frieze showing the Greek gods, a growl deep in her throat. Bug-eyed, Harry stepped back. He had a bad feeling about this.

"You've been giving us problems, honey."

"Oh." Harry suddenly realized that maybe there was a reason Percy was at this school. Uh-oh. Tugging at the cuffs of her leather jacket, Mrs. Dodds continued, "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

"Maybe you could clarify," Harry commented cautiously, edging back half a step. The look in her eyes was far more malevolent than anything-

A flash of pain from his subdued headache made him recall a pair of pure red, pure evil eyes. Okay, Mrs. Dodds' look was the second most malevolent thing Harry had ever seen. Silently Harry waited.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson. It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

"Uh…" Harry was really not liking this as he kept backing.

"Well?"

"Um…" went Harry as he kept backing away from the teacher.

"Your time is up," she snarled. Then things got really weird. Her fingers turned into talons, her eyes started to goal like embers, and her jacket grew into leathery, large wings. Worse of all, her face was definitely inhuman complete with fangs.

"What ho, Percy!" shouted a voice from the doorway of the gallery. Wheeling around, Harry saw Mr. Brunner in the doorway, pen in hand. Then he tossed the bronze-hued ballpoint pen to him, Harry catching it. As he did so, it also transformed- but into a bronze sword.

The former Mrs. Dodds headed towards Harry, murder clearly in her eyes. Harry shot a look at Mr. Brunner.

"Trust the preteen with the sword? What!"

"Die, honey!" shouted Mrs. Dodds, her claws outreached as she flew towards him. Both hands clamped on the sword Harry ran her through. The blade went right through her stomach. Mrs. Dodds fell apart like yellow sand, screeching as she died.

Then Harry was alone, ballpoint pen in hand. Shakily Harry went outside, where it was now raining.

Grover was still sitting by the fountain with his brown paper lunch bag over his head. Miss Bofobit stalked up to Harry, mad as a wet hen.

"I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

"Who?" blinked Harry. Hadn't there been only two chaperones?

"Our teacher, duh!"

"What are you talking about?"

Miss Bofobit just stormed off. Wearily Harry returned to Grover's side. Plopping down he sighed, "Hey, Grover."

It felt good, knowing the other boy's name. But he didn't dare ask about Mrs. Kerr; Harry realized she was probably some sort of instant replacement for Mrs. Dodds. Harry wasn't going to question it, especially after slaying the nonhuman pre-algebra teacher. Looking down at the ballpoint pen, Harry got to his feet.

Soberly he walked over, finally getting wet, to Mr. Brunner. "Your pen?"

"Ah, yes. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

"Hopefully I won't need to borrow yours again," nodded Harry as he handed over the pen. Mr. Brunner looked seriously at him as he tucked the pen into his tweed jacket pocket.

"I quite agree, Mr. Jackson."

As he once again headed back over to Grover, Harry felt very tired. Apparently this Percy was just as strange and as much as an outcast as him. But at least he had Grover, that was something. And maybe Harry had Grover too now… for a little while, anyway. Until Grover figured out the truth about him, whatever it might be.


	2. Chapter 2: Ladies Knit Socks of Death

Disclaimer: I don't own either series.

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Three Old Ladies Knit the Socks of Death<strong>

Harry was very confused. How had someone managed to convince nearly everyone that Mrs. Kerr had been their pre-algebra teacher since Christmas at Yancy Academy in upper New York? This meant he had gone to New York City that day; under other circumstances Harry would have been disappointed at not paying closer attention.

Of course, he didn't dare mention Mrs. Dodds to anyone in fear of someone figuring out his secret. Not even Grover.

So Harry focused on his schoolwork. It was harder and different from what he had been studying before but luckily no one expected brilliance from 'Percy'. In fact, he was supposed to have both AHAD and dyslexia. Harry had no idea how to fake that, so he just acted hyper and deliberately misspelled some words. It didn't help that he kept having nightmares about killing the thing Mrs. Dodds had turned into. And that he was over ten years into the future. Technology was disturbingly more advanced than he was used to.

Plus the freak weather had everyone on edge. Thunderstorms, tornados, sudden squalls out in the Atlantic, and more. Still Harry kept his grades in the B and C range, kept his head down. This was clearly disturbing Grover more than he was trying to let on and Harry let him. He didn't want to explain himself.

But that didn't mean he let Nancy Bobofit beat him up. Percy's body was sturdier and stronger than his own, so Harry let loose during gym class around her and her friends. He didn't take anything the bullies tried to dish out. He had gotten enough of that from his cousin.

So of course, when Nancy tripped Grover when he was racing to the cafeteria for enchiladas, Harry attacked. Over the past month and a half he had come to really like Grover and no one was going to mess with his first friend.

But this led to both him and Nancy being formally not being invited back next year. Harry didn't mind, except for not being at the same school as Grover next year. Actually, he didn't know what school he'd be going to next year.

His resolve renewed, Harry studied hard for his upcoming exams. This life was far better than his previous one by far despite all of these issues.

Believing what Mr. Brunner had told him that day at the museum, Harry studied hardest for his Latin exam. But the names were all so similar at times, and the chronology so confusing. And the spelling was outright absurd at times- even without dyslexia he couldn't spell the name of the love goddess for example.

Finally the evening before the Latin final Harry gave up and headed towards Mr. Brunner's office to ask for help, textbook in hand. There was a light on in his, raising Harry's hopes. But as he approached the partially open door he heard the end of a sentence. A sentence said by Grover.

"… worried about Percy, sir."

Harry froze as Grover continued.

"He'll be all alone this summer. I mean, a Kindly One in the _school_! Now that we know for sure, and _they_ know too. Besides, he's acting odd ever since that day."

"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner responded. "We need the boy to mature more."

Panicky Grover argued, "But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"

"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."

Rage rumbled within Harry. He wanted to know what was up with him and Percy; clearly he AND Percy were abnormal, maybe even in the same way.

"Sir, he _saw_ her…"

"His imagination," Mr. Brunner overrode Grover's concern. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."

"Sir, I… I can't fail in my duties again," Grover all but pleaded. "You know what that would mean."

Kindly Mr. Brunner assured him, "You haven't failed, Grover. I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall-"

The textbook dropped from Harry's hand, making an audible thud. That sounded like there was a real risk of him dying. Inside the office was sudden silence. Grabbing the book, Harry backed down the hall, hurriedly opening the nearest door and going inside as he quietly shut the door behind him.

Less than a minute later Harry heard clopping sounds approach his door. Hunched down, Harry saw a large shape in the glass pane of the door before it moved on. Harry had been sure his heart had been pounding loud enough to be audible.

Out in the hallway Mr. Brunner stated, "Nothing. My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither. But I could have sworn…" commented Grover.

"Go back to your dorm. You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me," groaned Grover. A minute later the light of Mr. Brunner's office went off. Feeling like he was back in his cupboard, Harry waited until he felt it was safe before exiting and returning to his dorm.

Grover was on his bed, studying for his Latin exam notes. Blearily he greeted Harry. "Hey, you going to be ready for this test?"

Not trusting his voice, Harry only nodded.

Frowning Grover noted, "You look awful. Is everything okay?"

"I'm just… tired." Harry turned away and started getting ready for bed. Behind him Grover commented, "Then you've been tired since that field trip to the museum."

Harry didn't respond. He couldn't trust Grover with his secret, and apparently Grover wouldn't trust him with his. He hated secrets.

The following afternoon, Harry left fast from Mr. Brunner's classroom before he could call him back inside. He didn't want to hear it.

The last bit of the term passed fast. Harry packed, wondering how on earth he'd act to his mother. Apparently Percy had a mom and a stepdad. Although from a few doodles the real Percy had left behind, he apparently hated his stepdad as much as Harry hated the Dursleys. But all the letters from his mom were caring and sweet. Harry didn't know how to feel, especially if Percy was now in his shoes. If anyone asked what he'd be doing that summer, he'd only shrug and they'd leave him be. At least he'd be returning to New York City.

Harry hadn't wanted to say good-bye to Grover; he couldn't be mad at him for keeping a huge secret when he was doing the same. But Grover was taking the same bus to Manhattan as him, so they sat in semi-comfortable silence for the first part of the ride through the New York countryside. Grover kept looking around nervously.

Finally Harry just sighed, "Looking for another Fury to attack me?"

Grover all but jumped out of his seat. "Wha- what do you mean?"

"I looked it up after I heard you and Mr. Brunner that night- you mentioned a Kindly One. That means Fury, and their description sounds like what Mrs. Dodds turned into," Harry informed Grover rapidly.

"So… how much did you hear?"

"Enough," Harry replied evasively. "What was the summer solstice deadline you two were talking about?"

"Look, Percy… I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about…" Grover trailed off when Harry started glowering at him.

"Grover, you're a good friend but a bad liar."

His ears turned pink. He scrounged out a grubby business card from his shirt pocket.

"Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer."

Exhaling, Harry took it and read it.

_**Grover Underwood**_

_**Keeper**_

_**Half-Blood Hill**_

_**Long Island, New York**_

_**(800) 009-0009**_

"What's-" Harry began but Grover shook his head rapidly.

"Don't say it aloud. That's my, um… summer address."

Harry wondered what that 'um' had meant.

"Oh, okay."

"If you need me."

"Huh?"

"Look, Percy, the truth is, I- I kind of have to protect you."

Harry looked out the bus window, wanting to say 'no, you have to protect Percy' but not being able to say it. So all he said was, "What exactly were you protecting me from, Grover?"

At the same time there was a grinding noise and black smoke poured out from the dashboard. The smell of sulfur- the smell of Mrs. Dodds, Harry realized in horror- filled the bus.

Cursing, the driver steered the bus over to the side of the highway opposite a fruit stand. After a few minutes of tinkering he told everyone that they could get off the bus for a bit.

Idly Harry looked over at the wooden fruit stand, Grover on his crutches nearby. There were cherries, apples, walnuts, apricots, and jugs of cider for sale. A trio of old ladies sat in rocking chairs under a tree's shade, with wrinkled pale skin, silver hair, and dressed in faded cotton dresses. The two on the edge each were knitting a sock the size of a sweater, while the lady in the middle held a huge basket of electric blue yarn. All three were intently studying Harry as he did them.

"Tell me they're not looking at you. They are, aren't they?" Grover fretted next to him.

"Yes. Odd… I wonder who those socks are for."

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all," Grover whimpered.

The center lady took out a giant pair of gold and silver shears, making Grover catch his breath.

"That's it, we're getting on the bus. Come on."

"No," Harry quietly responded, his eyes not leaving the shears.

"Come ON!" insisted Grover, heading for the door. But Harry, unmoving, watched the ladies watch him. Then the center one cut the yarn, the snip somehow audible across four lanes of traffic. Contentedly the other two balled up the electric blue socks. At the same time the driver got the bus fixed, the engine roaring back to life. All the passengers cheered but Grover and Harry.

"Everyone back on board!" yelled the driver, slapping the bus with his hat. Once back on the bus, Harry finally felt the heat of the day. Yet Grover was shivering with his teeth chattering. But Harry didn't want to ask any questions, because then he might have to answer some in return. At length Grover however started a conversation.

"Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"Those weren't Furies-"

"Kindly Ones!" yelped Grover. "Kindly Ones!"

"No; call them by what they are," Harry responded defiantly. "Anyway, those three weren't the Furies."

"Look, just tell me what you saw," Grover begged.

"The one in the middle took out shears and cut the yarn."

Grover closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers, like a ward for protection but far more ancient. Wearily he stated, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yes. Why? What does it mean?"

Chewing at his thumb Grover seemed not to hear him. "This is not happening. I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What- that time you 'failed' or something?"

"Always sixth grade, they never get past sixth grade," mumbled Grover, his eyes wide. Face-palming Harry inquired, "Grover, what are you talking about?"

Inhaling Grover just said, "Let me walk you home from the bus station. Promise me."

"No. Not unless you tell me what's going on."

"Percy, please," Grover begged. "I can't tell you because then they'd find you more easily. The more you know, the stronger the scent and the more easily they find you."

"Who?" demanded Harry. "Who would even want to find me?"

"Percy, just let me walk you home."

"Fine," sighed Harry. "But once home we're going to have to have a long talk. We _both_ need to come clean."

Grover blinked, but nodded. But for the rest of the ride he still muttered under his breath about 'always sixth grade' and 'why does this always happen' on top of keeping looking over at him as if Harry were going to die soon.


	3. Chapter 3: Grover Loses His Pants

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Percy. Otherwise far fewer people would have died. Not that people won't die in these fics… but not for a while. And I reference a few other things I don't own.

Also, I'm having "The Lightning Thief" occur in 2005 in case you're wondering about the timeline.

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three: Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants<strong>

Harry was slightly amused when the first thing Grover did when off the bus was to head for the bathroom. But he just grabbed both of their suitcases and waited for Grover to return. Together they took the taxi cab to East 104 and First. Harry had no idea what to expect from Percy's mom; he had a sinking feeling that she would be able to tell he wasn't really her son. This was going to be a long afternoon.

Grover and Harry found a poker party going on in the apartment's living room when they entered. 'Smelly' Gabe Ugliano and three other pudgy middle-aged men had made a mess worse than Dudley's second bedroom: beer cans and chips all over the floor and a disgusting odor emitting from the truly smelly Gabe.

"So, you're home," Gabe commented through his cigar, not looking up. He wore cheap, ill-fitting clothes and had a bad combover.

"Yes," Harry nodded, his fists clenched around his suitcase handle. Percy's stepfather reminded him of Uncle Vernon.

"You got any cash?"

With a sigh, Harry just forked over the change from the taxi ride, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Grover. His back rigid, Harry followed his gut to Percy's bedroom. There were pictures of the ocean on the walls, but clearly Smelly Gabe had used it during the school year- old car magazines, mud on the windowsill, and his smell filled the home.

"Home sweet home," Harry laughed hollowly, dumping his suitcase onto Percy's bed. Ironically, even in this state Percy's room was far better than his cupboard. Putting his own suitcase down, Grover shifted his weight uneasily.

"Percy, we need to talk."

"Percy?" came a kindly female voice from what sounded like just the other side of the door. Harry's heart plummeted.

"Yeah, you have no idea."

The door opened, and both turned. Percy's mom- Sally Jackson- had graying long brown hair, bright hazel eyes, and a big smile. She wore what looked like a candy striper uniform. But after one look at him, Harry knew she knew- and she knew he knew she knew.

Quietly he first introduced Grover, and then began explaining. Grover started chewing on some stray action figures out of nervousness even though Ms. Jackson was sharing a huge bag of free samples she'd gotten from her job at a candy shop; everything was blue but Harry didn't feel comfortable asking why.

"Oh man, I knew you-he had been acting off since the field trip but I never imagined that-"

"I don't know what happened or why," Harry repeated miserably. "I think Percy is back where I am- fourteen years in the past in England."

"I'm going to need a TARDIS or something," muttered Grover desperately.

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"Yeah, but Percy got switched out just as- well, you probably can guess, Ms. Jackson."

Her lips tightening she nodded. "Yes, this is a bad fight."

"And it's going to get worse, and if news gets out that Percy isn't really Percy… I'm so dead. I'm the worst keeper EVER!" wailed Grover, chomping down on a Blue _Power Ranger_. Harry looked between the two.

"Wait- who's fighting? And why does it involve me? Does this involve Mrs. Dodds?"

"Who?"

"A Kindly One that attacked P- Harry."

"Oh, oh dear."

"Don't forget I saw three old ladies cut some yarn," Harry reminded Grover, who winced and reached for another Power Ranger.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me."

Ms. Jackson brushed back some hair from her face. "I had already planned a trip for Montauk for me and Percy; we'll just switch it to the camp instead. Even if this… switch hadn't occurred, it's time for him to go to camp."

Grover nodded seriously but Gabe appeared in the doorway just then.

"Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

Facing her husband Sally stated, "I was on my way. We were just talking about the trip."

"The trip? You mean you were serious about that?" Gabe grumbled, his eyes narrowing. Harry bit his lip, uneasy.

"Yes. I've made you enough seven-layer dip for the whole weekend: guacamole, sour cream, the works."

Clearly softening Gabe commented, "So this money for your trip… it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"

"Yes."

"And you won't take the car anywhere but there and back."  
>Smoothly Sally just said, "We'll be very careful."<p>

"Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip… and if the kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

"Er… I'm sorry for interrupting your poker game with your friends," Harry managed, not entirely sure how he and Grover had interrupted. Presumably by breathing the same air as them.

"Yeah, whatever," Gabe agreed, his alpha male status seemingly reaffirmed, and he left back for his poker game. Tugging on her ponytail Sally stated, "All right, you two get ready. I need to finish that bean dip."

Before going she tousled Harry's hair, making him flush. Grover noted, "Your relatives weren't the affectionate sort, I take it."

"They hated me," nodded Harry. "I hope Percy is okay."

Grover snorted. "He's probably halfway across the country by now or he's blown up the house."

"Oh."

Almost an hour later everything was ready. Gabe left his poker game, groaning about losing Ms. Jackson's cooking and his '78 Camaro for the whole weekend. His finger up in Harry's face he warned him, "Not a scratch on this car, brain boy. Not one little scratch."

"Um, okay." Harry decided not to point out he wouldn't be the one driving. More and more Gabe reminded him of Uncle Vernon, so as Gabe reached the doorway Harry mimicked Grover's gesture from the bus. The screen door smacked hard into Gabe's butt, making him yelp as he headed upstairs. Harry began to wonder if all the accidents that littered his life could be controlled if he knew how.

"Come on," Grover called out, so Harry joined him and Ms. Jackson in the car.

"So… what is Percy? I'm guessing he's not normal." _Either_, Harry silently added. Grover looked up at Ms. Jackson.

"You wanna explain?"

"No, no, you're the keeper."

With an easy shrug Grover began removing his pants. Harry's jaw dropped as Grover revealed not human legs but rather shaggy hindquarters that resembled goat legs and his sneakers fell off, uncovering black cloven hooves.

"What?" It came out an octave higher than Harry had expected. Grover looked at him seriously. "I'm a satyr. We satyrs: we search for demigods and protect them from monsters."

"Like Mrs. Dodds?"

"Well, yeah."

Harry gave him a wry look. "Great job then."

"Very funny, Harry. I'm beginning to see why you and Percy switched places so easily."

"Wait- you're saying Percy's a demigod?"

"Yes. His father- well, I suppose it's his right to claim Percy, not mine."

Grover raised his eyebrows. "So you do know who he is."

"Of course. Not so much now, but when I was younger I could see through the Mist pretty easily," Ms. Jackson commented. "That's how we met."

"I'm in the body of a demigod?"

"Yes, Harry," Grover nodded, eying the rapidly growing storm clouds overhead. Ms. Jackson's knuckles were white as she kept her grip on the steering wheel.

"I hadn't wanted to send Percy away to the camp- the one place where demigods can live in relative safety- but if a Fury came after him I have no choice. And worse…" Her voice broke. Harry felt guilty for replacing her son on top of getting a headache from processing all of this.

"I _am_ sorry."

"Oh, Harry, it's not your fault."

"Look, basically the main gods are having one of their worst feuds since World War Two. And if it isn't settled by the summer solstice, war between gods will break out and Western Civilization will be torn apart," Grover informed the other two grimly as with a giant peal of thunder a downpour began.

In the distance, a moment later, came an echo of that great roar.


	4. Chapter 4: My Mom Teaches Bullfighting

All right, time for chapter four for poor Harry! I own nothing but the plot bunny. Well, this was fun to write.

Thanks to LunaBeth203 & SilverMidnightKitten for reviewing. And to Mellie Erdmann for editing.

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><p><strong>Chapter Four: My Mother Teaches Me Bullfighting<strong>

Ms. Jackson was slowly driving through the storm, Grover looked moments away from gnawing on his discarded sneakers, and Harry felt very panicky. He was in the body of a demigod, one that apparently someone(s) didn't want existing.

Gusts of wind pushed at the Camaro and rain pelted the entire car. It had gone from afternoon to pitch night in minutes, completely skipping sunset and twilight. Thanks to the rain, Grover was starting to smell like a goat.

"So… how come everyone forgot about Mrs. Dodds?" Harry asked Grover over the rain as there was a flash of lightning.

"We put the Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you'd think the Kindly One-"

"Fury."

"KINDLY ONE!" yelped Grover. More calmly he continued, "That the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. Harry, you started to figure out who Percy was."

"A demigod," Harry repeated. Ms. Jackson nodded. "We have to get you to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me- Percy- me?" Harry struggled with which pronoun to use. Looking around anxiously Grover replied, "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Oh. Hades. Wonderful," Harry said in a small voice. "Ms. Jackson? Could you please drive faster?"

A minute later she made a hard left on a narrower road. Through the rain Harry could see darkened farmhouses, wooded hills, and signs on white picket fences. Squinting, Harry saw all the signs said the same thing: Pick Your Own Strawberries.

"So, where exactly are you taking me?"

"The summer camp. Percy's father wanted to send him there for years now- practically his whole life, really. But I kept Percy because he was my son but now he'd have to go even if you hadn't switched. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut some yarn?" Harry tried. With a shudder Grover commented, "Those weren't old ladies. Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means- the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to… when someone's about to die."

Harry paled. "Oh. I cheated death once with that car crash that killed my parents- maybe I'll get lucky again."

Grover bit his lower lip as the car swerved to the right, and Harry looked behind to see why- a dark shape that melted fast into the storm.

"What was that?"

"We're almost there," was all Ms. Jackson said. "Another mile. Please, please, please, please."

Harry's eyes widened as it hit him. "Half Blood Hill? That's where we're going? Because Percy is a half-blood, a demigod."

Grover just nodded, chewing anxiously on his discarded pants. Then out of nowhere there was a bright flash of light, a bone-rattling boom, and it felt like the car exploded. Pushing himself up from the back of the driver's seat Harry blinked.

"P- Harry!" came Ms. Jackson's voice.

"I'm okay," Harry assured her, shaking his head. The car had crashed into a ditch opposed to exploding, although the roof had cracked open like an eggshell and now rain was pouring in. The front half of the car was wedged deep into mud. Gabe would not be happy with the state of his beloved car. Next to Harry, Grover was motionless.

"Grover!"

Slumped over, blood trickled from the side of Grover's mouth. Harry shook his shoulder, repeating the other boy's name worriedly. Grover was his first friend. After a minute Grover groaned, "Food."

That made Harry smile. But when he looked back the smile felt off his face. A huge guy was approaching the car. It almost looked like he was wearing a cow's head but that'd be stupid.

"Who is-"

"Harry, get out of the car," Ms. Jackson told him seriously before throwing herself against the driver-side door to no avail. Doing the same with his door, Harry had similar luck. The hole in the roof had sizzling edges.

"Climb out the passenger's side. Harry, you're going to have to run. See that big pine?"

Desperately Harry looked around. In a flash of lightning Harry saw a huge pine on top of the nearest hill.

"Yes!"

"That's the property line. Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Ms. Jackson, aren't you coming too?"

Pale, she looked away. Harry's throat tightened. If anything happened to her, it'd be his fault.

"No, you're coming too. Help me carry Grover."

Grover chose that moment to moan 'food' again, albeit slightly louder this time. All the while the big guy was approaching the car, getting closer and closer. Harry could now hear the grunts and snorts he was making. Huge hands swung at his sides, and instead of wearing a cow's head he had a bull's head complete with big pointy horns.

"He doesn't want us. He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

"But…" Harry begged.

"We don't have time, Harry. Go. Please. I'll take care of Grover." Gently she kissed him on the forehead. "He has bad sight and hearing but excellent smell. And once he gets going, he can't stop easily. Understand?"

"I'm sorry," Harry cried before scrambling outside. If it did want him opposed to them, at least he could keep the guy from attacking. Half-blinded from tears and rain he stumbled uphill through wet waist-high grass. Nearly a quarter of the way up Harry got to his feet and looked back.

It was the Minotaur from the myths, although for some reason he was wearing bright white Fruit of the Looms underwear. He had huge muscles everywhere and was easily seven feet tall. His head was huge with cruel black eyes and sharp black and white horns.

"Minotaur!" shouted Harry at the top of his lungs. With a huge whoosh, the Minotaur shifted away from the car and changed course- right at Harry, less than fifty feet away. Breathing shallowly Harry resumed his mad scramble uphill. He muttered to himself, "Good smell, bad sight and hearing. Can't change directions easily when charging."

The Minotaur was tromping steadily uphill. The pine tree was close, but the hill was slicker and steeper near the top. Harry could now smell the Minotaur- its stench was that of rotten meat. With a bellow he lowered his head and changed, its horns aimed at Harry's chest.

"Minotaur!" Harry shouted bravely, holding his ground before diving to the side at the last possible moment. Storming past Harry, the Minotaur bellowed with frustration before turning. His heart pounding Harry made it to the hill's crest. Far below were the lights of a farmhouse in the valley, half a mile away.

Pawing the ground, the Minotaur looked like it was considering charging the Camaro. Harry couldn't, wouldn't let that happen to Percy's mom. Percy would not lose his mom like he had lost his parents.

"OI! MINOTAUR!" screamed Harry, waving his arms wildly. With a snort Minotaur looked over at him. As thunder roared overhead Harry yelled, "Pick on a real threat! ME!"

Its fingers clenching, the Minotaur charged at Harry. Doubting the same trick would work twice, especially with its arms out wide to catch him, in case the preteen tried to dodge again. Harry felt time slow, his legs tense, and then he jumped straight up, climbing over the Minotaur's head to wrap around its neck.

Before Harry could process what he had just done, the Minotaur crashed into the giant pine tree, making his head vibrate. Staggering, the Minotaur tried to shake him off but Harry wrapped his arms tight around his horns. Thunder and lightning were ceaseless, and Harry was soaked to the bone from the rain. Also, wet rotten meat smelled really bad.

Bucking, the Minotaur kept trying to toss Harry. Unsure of how much longer he'd last and angry at him for trying to kill Ms. Jackson Harry gripped one horn tightly with both hands and pulled backward as hard as he could, making the Minotaur grunt in surprise. With a snap the Minotaur screamed and flung Harry through the air.

Landing flat against the grass, Harry's head hit a rock. When he sat up, his vision was blurry but there was a Minotaur horn in his hand- a ragged knife-sized weapon. Furious, the Minotaur charged at Harry once again.

Letting Percy's demigod instincts take over, Harry rolled to the side and kneeled. As the Minotaur barreled past he drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up into his furry rib cage.

With a roar of agony the Minotaur clawed at its chest. Like Mrs. Dodds it disintegrated into chunks of dark sand that blew apart in the wind.

"Bloody brilliant," muttered Harry. Then the rain stopped. "Even more bloody brilliant."

Exhausted Harry returned to the Camaro. Ms. Jackson had just exited, and hugged him tight.

"That was wonderful, Harry."

"Your advice really helped. Thank you, Ms. Jackson"

"Food?" muttered Grover blearily from the backseat. Exchanging a look, the two burst out laughing until they started to cry as storm clouds still loomed overhead.

"What will you do now?" Harry inquired. Ms. Jackson's eyes turned the color of the sea. "I think I'll still go to Montauk for the weekend… and then I'll deal with Gabe. Somehow I doubt that he'll be needed anymore."

Tiredly Harry nodded. His energy levels were nearing zero. "Thank you, Ms. Jackson. Percy is lucky to have a mom like you."

She just smiled. "Go to camp, Harry. I'll send a letter explaining things to the activities director. And Grover will be there soon."

Having dropped the Minotaur horn at some point on his way down, Harry went back up the hill, down the other side, and by the time he reached the farmhouse he was borderline unconscious. Falling down on its wooden porch, Harry looked up to see a blonde girl his age and a familiar looking man.

Her eyes cool the girl stated, "He's the one. He must be."

"Silence, Annabeth. He's still conscious. Bring him outside."

And then it went dark.

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><p><span>Please don't ask about pairings… all I know is that PercyGinny and Harry/Annabeth are out of the question. Ick.


	5. Chapter 5: I Play Pinochle with a Horse

I've been hinting at it within the story, but yes Percy is in Harry's world. You don't have to read both fics, but I like to think they're equally as good. Although Percy is a lot more off the rails than Harry for the time being.

Anyway, I just own far too many plot bunnies… 

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Five: I Play Pinochle with a Horse<strong>

Harry had many strange nightmares: a horse and an eagle battling on a beach and lots of farm animals that either wanted to kill him or food. Sometimes he would wake up for a few moments, but even then little made sense. He was lying in a soft bed, being fed pudding that tasted like treacle. That girl with the steel grey eyes was sitting next to his bed, smirking as she scraped off the pudding on his chin with the spoon.

Realizing he was awake she asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

"What?" Harry blinked. Looking around anxiously the girl just inquired, "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"Something important?" Harry tried, but then there was a knock at the door and the girl crammed a mouthful of pudding into his mouth. When Harry woke up again, the girl was gone and there was a husky blonde man with eyes all over him- all of which were watching Harry intently.

At last Harry woke up for real but nothing odd was there. No longer in the bed, he was sitting on a deck chair with a pillow behind his neck. There was a strawberry-scented breeze, and there was a sunny, beautiful view of the valley. His mouth was extremely dry but on a nearby table was a tall drink that looked like cold pale tea. It had a green straw in it as well as a paper parasol stuck through a bright red cherry.

Weakly Harry grabbed the glass. Grover's voice said, "Careful."

Looking to his left, Harry saw an exhausted Grover leaning against the porch railing. Once again he was disguised as a human. His bright orange T-shirt said 'Camp Half-Blood'. From under one arm he gave Harry a shoe box.

"Here, I went back to the hill for this."

Inside was the Minotaur's broken horn Harry had used to kill it. Blinking he stated, "The Minotaur."

"Um, Harry, it isn't a good idea-"

"Why not? That's what it is," Harry countered. Changing the subject Grover said, "It's been two days. Ms. Jackson is alright, although I doubt Smelly Gabe will be sticking around her for much longer…"

"Good," Harry smirked, looking out at the huge pine tree. Grover just smiled weakly. "You learn fast, Harry."

"I think I'm good at life and death situations," Harry had to acknowledge. "That's probably whatever leftover demigod instincts I got from Percy… I think."

Grover sniffled. "But… but I was supposed to protect you. I'm your keeper."

"You're Percy's keeper, not mine," Harry shrugged, starting to feel a bit dizzy. Grover bit his lip nervously. "Try your drink… just a tiny bit at first."

So Harry took the smallest sip he could, but soon he was gulping it down because it was many delicious foods wrapped up into a single wonderful drink: fudge, mince pies, chocolate cake, and nut brittle. The drink filled him with warmth and energy.

Looking a bit surprised but relieved Grover asked, "Was it good?"

Harry nodded contentedly. Grover wondered wistfully, "What did it taste like?"

"Why? Haven't you ever had any?"

"No! No, no. I'm not allowed. But I can wonder. Um, how do you feel?"

"Like I could take on the Minotaur again!" Harry grinned, looking up at the practically clear sky when there was a rumble of thunder.

"That's good, that's good. But I don't think you could risk drinking any more of this stuff."

"Huh? Why?"

But Grover just took the empty glass from Harry's hand gingerly as if it would explode and set it back on the table.

"Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting. I explained to them about you and Percy seemingly switching places, but they want to talk to you in person."

So Harry walked on wobbly legs with Grover on the wrap-around porch of the farmhouse, holding tight onto the Minotaur horn. The opposite end of the porch revealed an even more spectacular view.

Buildings built in the style of ancient Greece were scattered across the valley. The white marble columns gleamed: an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, and a circular arena were the biggest ones. Out of the wild woods came kids on horses, some of the horses having wings. There was a small lake with canoes on it. There was a horseshoe-shaped area of cabins, and a nearby sandpit that was currently hosting a game of volleyball. All the kids wore the same shirt as Grover, and looking down Harry saw he was wearing one as well.

But Grover was walking towards the end of the porch, where there were two men playing some sort of card game. That blonde girl was leaning against the porch railing, watching him dubiously.

One of the men was short and chubby with a ruddy face and curly purple-black hair. He wore a Hawaiian shirt with a tiger pattern and khaki pants. The other man was in a wheelchair, dressed in a tweed jacket, and had messy brown hair and beard.

"That's Mr. D. He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl is Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron…"

"But that's Mr. Brunner," Harry puzzled. Hearing his name, he turned with a mischievous yet almost wary glint to them.

"Ah, hello… Harry, is it?"

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"Well, now we have four for pinochle."

Mr. Brunner offered Harry the chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at Harry with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."

Harry just nodded. He was used to that all right. Mr. Brunner called, "Annabeth?"

The girl, who looked to be about twelve like Percy's body, came forward. Mr. Brunner introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Harry's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

"For now?" Harry mouthed. Annabeth responded in the affirmative to Mr. Brunner, calling him Chiron, before looking over at Harry. Uncomfortably Harry asked, "Yes?"

"You drool when you sleep," she informed him. Then she dashed off, her blonde curls flying behind her. Baffled Harry commented, "So… the Chiron thing. Is that an honorary title or are you a centaur?"

"First let us discuss your own situation, Harry, about replacing Percy. I consulted the Oracle, and she confirmed Grover's story… but I would like to hear it in your own words."

So Harry spoke: about waking up on that bus, killing the Fury, hiding his secret, meeting Ms. Jackson, telling her and Grover his secret, the trip to camp, and his battle against the Minotaur. At some point in the story Grover took the final seat. Leaning back Mr. Brunner frowned, "This is most unusual. I hope Percy is faring well in England. Nonetheless I'm glad to see my house call wasn't wasted. You and Percy are both clearly special."

Dubious, Harry shifted his attention to Mr. D. "What does the D stand for?"

Still shuffling the cards Mr. D looked disgustedly at him. "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."

"But…" Harry blinked in bafflement. So he returned his attention to Mr. Brunner. "Why did you go to Yancy to see Percy?"

"Honestly, I wasn't sure at first. I contacted his mother, to let her know that we were watching Percy in case he was ready for Camp Half-Blood. But he- and you as well- still had so much to learn. Yet you made it here alive, and that's always the first test."

"Yes, well, let's play pinochle." Turning on Harry Mr. D questioned, "You do know how to play pinochle?"

"No."

"No, _sir_."

Harry just eyed Mr. D strangely. The camp director stated flatly, "Well, it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."

Mr. Brunner told Mr. D, "I'm sure the boy can learn."

"But there are a lot of demigods, right? What's so special about Percy?" Harry questioned. Mr. D snorted as he began to deal the cards, "I asked the same question."

Grover flinched every time a card landed in his pile. Mr. Brunner smiled ruefully. "I'm glad Ms. Jackson told you something."

"Percy's the son of a god… and the Minotaur is real and the Furies…" Harry's thinking was broken by Mr. D demanding if he was going to bid or not. Then he had to explain to Harry what bidding was so he could so.

"I'm afraid there's still too much to tell. Our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."

"There's an orientation film?"

"Grover is a satyr. You have killed the Minotaur, an extraordinary feat. The crux of the matter is that the forces called the Greek gods are still at work in this world, very much alive."

"Okay…"

"Oh, a royal marriage. Trick, trick!" cackled Mr. D as he tallied up his points. Timidly Grover asked, "Mr. D, if you're not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?"

"Eh? Oh, all right."

Mournfully Grover bit a huge chunk out of it and began chewing.

"So… what exactly do Greek gods do today?"

"They do what they've always done, Harry: be great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors, the immortal gods of Olympus."

"The ones we learned in Latin class?" Harry asked, the full implications of Percy being a demigod hitting him. "Hecate? Apollo? Zeus? Hades?"

Rumbles of thunder went across the empty sky.

"Young man, I would really be less casual about throwing those names around if I were you."

"So, are wizards real too?" Harry asked hopefully. The other three just looked at him oddly. Awkwardly Harry changed the subject. "So… why aren't gods more a part of Western civilization then?"

"Oh, please," grumbled Mr. D, playing a card. Waving his hand, a goblet appeared on the table out of nowhere and filled itself with red wine. Harry's jaw dropped but Mr. Brunner barely looked up.

"Mr. D, your restrictions," he reminded the other man. Looking at the wine Mr. D feigned surprise. "Dear me."

Looking up at the sky he yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"

A rumble of thunder replied to him. With another wave of his hand, Mr. D changed the goblet into a fresh can of Diet Coke. With an unhappy sigh he popped the top of the soda and went back to the card game. Bemusedly Mr. Brunner informed Harry, "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."

"An off-limits wood nymph?" blinked Harry.

"Yes," Mr. D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time- well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away- the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha. Absolutely unfair."

"And your father is…" trailed off Harry.

"_Di immortales_, Chiron. I thought you had taught the boy the basics. My father is Zeus, of course."

Harry struggled to remember anyone with a name that started with D in the Greek myths. Only one came to mind, and that was: "You're Dionysus. The god of wine."

Mr. D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Do the children say, 'Well, duh!'?"

"Yes, Mr. D," gulped Grover.

"Then, well, duh! Harry Potter. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

"You're one of the major Olympian gods. You?" Harry questioned. Mr. D turned to face him, a purplish fire in his eyes that hinted at great powers. Suddenly Harry saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors transforming into dolphins, and women mad with wine. If pushed, Mr. D was capable of showing even worse things that would drive Harry to madness.

"Would you like to test me, child?" he inquired quietly. Harry shook his head, his eyes dropping. "No, no, sir."

Turning back to the card game, Mr. D commented, "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr. D," replied Mr. Brunner, laying down his cards. Tallying the points he stated, "The game goes to me."

With a sigh, Mr. D rose as if used to losing to Mr. Brunner. He stated, "I'm tired. I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to… discuss your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment."

"Y-yes, sir," Grover responded timidly. Irritably Mr. D stormed into the farmhouse, a frightened Grover following. Worriedly Harry asked, "Will Grover be okay?"

Although looking troubled Mr. Brunner nodded. "Old Dionysus isn't really mad. He just hates his job. He's been… ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."

"So it's a real place?"

"Well, there's the physical mountain in Greece. But then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus out of respect to the old ways but the palace moves just as the gods do."

"Huh?"

Patiently Mr. Brunner explained, "The gods move with the heart of Western civilization. Not a mere abstract concept, it's a living force. The gods could be considered the source of it, a collective consciousness that has burned bright for millennia, or at least so much a part of it that only the oblivion of Western civilization could end them. It began in Greece, moved to Rome where the gods gained new names but remained the same forces."

"And then what?"

"They simply moved- wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. Indeed, Harry, they spent several centuries in your England. But like it or not America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. So Olympus is here, as are we."

"So… you're the real Chiron then. But who is Percy- who am I?"

"Who are you and Percy? Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, let's settle for a bunk in cabin eleven," Mr. Brunner- Chiron- commented, shifting as if to rise up from his wheelchair. "And there'll be plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Furthermore there will be smores at the campfire tonight, and I adore chocolate."

There was an echo of a pang somewhere near Harry's heart for some unknown reason. Then Mr. Brunner/Chiron did rise from his wheelchair in such a way that revealed that his true form was that of a centaur with a white horse's body. Harry just stared, dumbfounded.

Ignoring his shock Chiron commented, "What a relief. I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now come, Harry Potter. Let me give you a tour of Camp Half-Blood."


	6. Chapter 6: I Become Lord of the Bathroom

I don't own these two plot bunnies. And yeah, I'm back at last…

This was fun to write! And also, it was edited by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: I Become Supreme Lord of the Bathroom<strong>

Mr. Brunner- Chiron, really- was showing Harry around Camp Half-Blood. Harry felt overwhelmed by everything the centaur was showing him: the volleyball pit, the archery range, the lake with canoes out on it, the amphitheater, the arena for training, the javelin range, strawberry fields full of pipe-playing satyrs, and the forest. Mutely Harry had followed, but now he stared deep into the dark woods.

"I shouldn't be here, should I?"

"No," sighed Chiron, his tail swishing back and forth anxiously.

"Um, will Grover be okay?" Harry inquired nervously. "I mean, I know I fooled him…"

"Yes, though I think you had a little help in that department."

"I did?" frowned Harry.

Chiron nodded soberly. "Yes: the Mist. I could sense it on him and you. You used it to keep the wool over Grover's eyes, otherwise he would have figured out the switch long ago. He is a satyr and was growing close to Percy as a friend as well as a protector."

"So he'll be okay?" Harry pressed.

Chiron sighed deeply. "Well, the Council of Elders might acknowledge that Grover did all he did under the circumstances. But he has not reached his goal… to do that he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper. He must find a new camper and bring him or her safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"Oh. But there was lightning and…" Harry felt horrible.

Chiron rested a hand on his shoulder. "It is not your fault, Harry."

Harry looked up at the centaur. "Will he get a second chance?"

"I'm afraid Percy and by extension you were his second chance. Dionysus and the Council of Elders must determine whether he'll get a third. Yet they were hesitant to give him a second, especially after what happened five years ago."

Harry scuffed the dirt with his sneaker before looking into the deep, dark woods. They felt old and wild.

Seeing him looking Chiron told him, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

Harry didn't want to know what Chiron meant by that. Turning away from the woods Chiron stated, "Capture the Flag is Friday night. I suppose you don't have your own sword and shield yet?"

"No…"

Walking back to towards the farmhouse, Chiron pointed out an outdoor pavilion with white columns on a hill with an ocean view. Inside there were a dozen stone picnic tables. "That is the mess hall."

"All right. Why doesn't it have a roof?" wondered Harry.

"It doesn't need one," shrugged Chiron. "Now for the cabins."

They were between the farmhouse and the woods, in a U shape. Despite not having left Privet Drive much, Harry sensed these were very strange buildings by anyone's standards. Well, apparently by nearly anyone's standards. Other than all of them having an identifying number in brass above the door (odds on the left, evens on the right), they had nothing in common.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, one and two, were large white marble buildings with heavy columns in front. Number one was the biggest, with holographic lightning bolts on the bronze doors. More delicate in build, number two had images of peacocks and flowers on the columns. Number three was low but solid, made of coarse gray stone with bits of seashells and coral in it. Number four was covered in tomato vines and had a glass roof. Number five was loosely painted bright red with barbed wire on the roof and a boar's head hung over the door with a stocky girl sneering at him from the its porch. Number six was grey with silvery curtains and an image of an owl over the door

Number seven looked to be solid gold, glinting in the sunlight. Number eight was grey and looked a lot like number seven. Number nine had smokestacks protruding out of the roof, made of copper plates welded together and with a round door. Number ten looked like a girl's dream dollhouse with a blue roof, pink walls, and white window trim but smelled strongly of perfume. Number eleven looked like a regular if old cabin with a caduceus over its number. Number twelve was covered in grape vines but looked to be purple underneath them all.

Harry realized the blonde girl- Annabeth- was reading on the front porch of cabin eleven. Chiron approached her, Harry following.

"Annabeth, I have the masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"

"Yes, sir." She closed the book, which Harry realized had a title written in Greek.

"Cabin eleven. Make yourself at home. I will see you at dinner" Chiron told Harry before galloping off. Cautiously Harry approached the open entrance, which revealed a place stuffed with bunk beds and campers. Everyone was staring at him.

"Go on," Annabeth prompted Harry. Harry waved with his free hand. "Hi?"

A few people waved back but no one spoke. Harry edged into the cabin. "So, this is cabin eleven?"

"Regular or undetermined?" asked somebody. Annabeth replied, "Undetermined."

Everyone groaned at that. Harry looked around, wondering what that meant and why it was a bad thing. A guy in his late teens came forward.

"Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Harry. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."

Tanned with cropped sandy hair, he looked friendly enough save for a scar that stretched from his jaw up to just under his right eye. Harry gave him a weak smile.

"This is Luke," Annabeth said happily. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?"

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, or even if you should be in a cabin, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

All Harry had was the broken Minotaur's horn, and something niggled at him. When he remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves Harry opted not to put down the horn. Looking around, Harry saw that everyone was staring at him- some looked curious, some looked sullen, some looked like Dudley, and some looked like they wanted a chance to pick his pockets.

"So how long will I be here?" asked Harry, shifting his weight.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"Which means?"

Some of the campers snorted as if they couldn't believe how stupid he was being. Harry looked down at his feet.

"Come on," Annabeth told him from the front porch. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've seen it."

"Come on," Annabeth said, coming in and yanking Harry out by the arm. Some of the campers inside burst out laughing. Harry felt miserable. Even without Dudley's interference, even into another world, he was still a freak and not normal.

Once they were a few feet away, Annabeth turned towards Harry, letting him go. "You have to do better than that, Potter."

"What?"

Rolling her steely eyes she mumbled, "I can't believe I thought you might be the one I was hoping for."

"I don't know what's going on! I wish that the Minotaur hadn't attacked!" Harry nearly shouted. Then he began shouting in earnest. "I wish that Percy and I hadn't switched places! I wish that Dudley would stop bullying me! I wish I had a good life instead of whatever messes I KEEP LANDING IN!"

Annabeth punched him then. Hard, in the shoulder. Stepping back, Harry eyed her darkly.

She snapped at him, "Don't you know how many of us wish we'd had your chance?"

"Are you all crazy?" Harry shot back. "You all want to get killed?"

"No! To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

"But… but if that was the Minotaur from the stories…"

"Yes!"

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"But he died thousands of years ago. That one guy killed him in the maze."

"Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. But monsters don't die. They can be killed, but they don't die."

Harry just stared at the blonde girl. Annabeth rubbed her temples. "Look, they don't have souls like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form."

"Okay then," mumbled Harry. Running a hand through his hair, he felt it fall back into place. That felt so weird after ten years of utterly untamable hair. He pointed towards the first two cabins. "Look, why is cabin eleven so crowded? Can't we spread out through the cabins? I mean, aren't several of them empty?"

Pale, Annabeth said, "You don't just chose a cabin, Harry. It depends on who your parents are. Or… your parent."

Harry looked away. "They died in a car crash when I was one year old."

"I'm sorry, Harry. But I meant Percy's parents really anyway."

"I met his mom. She's nice."

"Then it's his father."

"You mean about him being a god. Percy's father is one of the Greek gods." Harry remembered what Mrs. Jackson had said before the Minotaur had attacked.

"Of course. Now you count as a demigod too, since you survived getting into camp as well as the ambrosia and nectar. That would have killed a mortal but it heals demigods and gods. Face it, you're now a half-blood like us despite whatever you were before."

Harry's head was spinning with questions but then a voice yelled out, "Well! A newbie!"

The two looked over. The sneering girl from before was back, marching towards them. She had stringy brown hair, hard brown eyes, and was muscled. Behind her were three other girls, all four wearing camouflage jackets over their camp T-shirts.

"Clarisse," sighed Annabeth. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," Clarisse snapped. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"_Erre es korakas_!" Annabeth retorted. Harry guessed it was Greek but had no idea what it meant. She continued, "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but a twitch in her eye stated she wasn't that sure. She turned towards Harry. "Who's this little runt?"

"Harry Potter, meet Clarisse, daughter of Ares."

"The war god?" Harry recalled warily. Clarisse smirked. "You got a problem with that?"

Harry backed up, feeling a severe case of déjà vu. "No."

"We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Hairball." She stomped towards him. "Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse-" Annabeth began but Clarisse shot her a dour look. "Stay out of it, wise girl."

Looking pained, Annabeth shut up. Reluctantly Harry tossed her the Minotaur horn, doubting that using a pointy object in a non-training fight would be regarded well. Then Clarisse grabbed him by the neck and started to drag him towards a cinder-block building. Judging by the two symbols on the two doors it was the bathroom.

Harry kicked and punched and dug in his feet but Clarisse was immoveable as she got him into the girls' bathroom. On one side were the toilet stalls and on the other were a line of shower stalls. At the other end were some sinks. It kind of stank, but Harry had a more pressing concern than the smell.

Clarisse's three friends were laughing nearby, and Harry was wondering how to get out of this mess. As she pushed him towards one of the toilets Clarisse snorted, "Like he's 'Big Three' material. Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking."

Annabeth was watching through her fingers from the door. Clarisse shoved Harry's head towards the toilet bowl, fingers buried into his hair, but Harry pressed his hands against the bowl's rim. No way was he letting anyone stick his head into a toilet.

Closing his eyes, Harry pushed at the toilet bowl and felt a rush through his body. The plumbing rumbled and the pipes shook. Everything went quiet. Clarisse even loosened her grip on Harry's hair. Then water exploded over Harry and into Ares' daughters.

Clarisse staggered back up, but another stream of water rushed out of the toilet and shoved her into a shower stall screaming. The other three girls started to go towards her but all the toilets sprayed water at them and Clarisse. As they still struggled towards Harry the showers got into it as well, forcing them outside.

Once they were, Harry sank to his knees as the water died down as quickly as it began. Looking around, he saw that the entire bathroom was flooded. Even Annabeth was soaking wet though she hadn't moved from her spot. Then Harry realized he was the only dry thing in the bathroom, which was a whole other level of weird.

Breathing heavily, he got to his feet. "How did I do that?"

"I don't know," Annabeth told him, frowning. Together they walked outside where Clarisse and the other three girls were. They were covered in water and mud, and other campers had come over to stare. With a snarl Clarisse told Harry, "You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead."

Harry just shrugged tiredly. "Did you really expect me to just let you shove my head down a toilet? I'm not stupid."

Clarisse just spat at him, but the spit fell several feet short. Annabeth stared at Harry for a long minute, her expression inscrutable.

"What is it?" Harry sighed, exhausted from making the bathroom explode.

Quietly Annabeth responded, "I'm thinking that I want you on my team for capture the flag."


	7. Chapter 7: My Dinner Goes Up in Smoke

Time for another chapter, even if I just have the plot bunny!

Also remember that Annabeth doesn't like Harry the way she does Percy. So she'll need more time to warm up to him. And I really like Clarisse and the Stoll brothers so… ^^

AND remember little Harry is psychologically just ten going on eleven. And keep an eye out for a shout out to a show (hint: I did do one fic in it).

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: My Dinner Goes Up in Smoke<strong>

Annabeth, still completely wet, was now showing Harry a few places Chiron hadn't on Harry's previous tour. There was the metal shop, the arts and crafts room, and the climbing wall that featured dangerous obstacles on the way up. As the sun sank lower in the sky the two returned to the canoeing lake where the trail led back to the cabins.

"I have training to do. Dinner is at seven thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall," she told him flatly. Harry sat down on the beach and looked up at her. "Annabeth, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to make the toilets explode."

"Whatever." Shaking her head, Annabeth stalked off. Harry used the Minotaur horn to etch a lightning bolt into the sand. Looking into the lake, Harry saw two teenage girls underwater sitting at the base of the pier. They wore blue jeans and rippling green T-shirts, with minnows darting in and out of their floating brown hair. Happily they waved at Harry, who weakly waved back.

"Hey," Clarisse greeted Harry, stomping over in her combat boots. She had changed clothes and had dried off. Harry eyed her. "Hey."

"You put up a good fight," acknowledged Clarisse, arms akimbo. "Especially if what's being said is true and you're not a real demigod."

"I'm in the body of a real one," Harry shrugged. Clarisse looked pensive, then shouted out to two boys walking by. "Hey, Stolls! Get over here!"

Two boys with mischievous smiles, elfin features, and floppy brown hair approached cautiously. One went, "Yeah, Clarisse?"

"What do you think'll happen to Harry?" she asked them. The shorter one studied Harry for a bit before commenting, "Maybe he needs to see the Oracle."

"The who?"

"The what," Clarisse corrected him. "Maybe someone should ask Chiron."

"You're the Ares counselor," shrugged one of them. "You could do it."

"Yeah, I could."

Harry started to draw a stag in the sand. "So everyone here except for Chiron, Dionysus, and the satyrs is a demigod? Half human and half god?"

"Yep," nodded one of the boys. The other smirked, "Well, there are the naiads and dryads and the cleaning harpies but mostly we're demigods here."

Clarisse looked annoyed. "It's the only secure location for us. Anywhere else and the monsters would hone in on us thanks to our scent."

"We smell to monsters," chuckled one boy. "Like, track us everywhere smell."

Clarisse just gave them a dark look. "If you're not very strong, you can leave because your scent is weak. The more powerful you are, the less safe you are outside of camp. Especially once you hit ten or eleven- old enough to get into fights. We used to be able to leave on quests, but not since somebody screwed up enough that none are allowed anymore."

"Oh." Harry looked at the boys closely. "So Clarisse is a daughter of Ares. What are you two?"

"Sons of Hermes!" they chorused. The shorter one saluted playfully. "I'm Connor and that's Travis. We're two of your cabin mates. Luke's a son of Hermes too."

"And Annabeth?"

Clarisse snorted. "Daughter of Athena."

"And what does being undetermined means?"

"It means we don't know who your godly parent is," Travis explained. Harry shook his head as he finished his sketch of a stag.

"Mrs. Jackson said she knew, 'cause they met because she could see through the Mist. But she also said that it was his place to reveal himself."

"You're probably a son of a river god," suggested Clarisse. "I mean, with that stunt you pulled in the bathroom."

"It was raining when I fought the Minotaur," agreed Harry. "So there's a connection to water."

"Or you could really be 'Big Three' material," Clarisse added. Connor and Travis exchanged dubious looks. The latter pointed out, "But that'd be breaking the oath."

"What oath?" questioned Harry nervously. He began to sketch a big dog next to the stag. Clarisse shook her head. "Don't worry about that. We need to worry about the summer solstice."

Pushing back some stringy hair Clarisse continued, "Something big is going down. We year-rounders went there last winter solstice to see a bit of the gods' annual council."

"The train trip was fun," grinned Connor. Travis nodded. Harry looked between the trio. "But where is Mount Olympus nowadays?"

"The Empire State Building- take the six hundredth floor," Clarisse told him. Harry wasn't sure if that building even had three hundred floors but kept his mouth. "Anyway, by New Year's the weather started acting up like the gods were fighting. Conner and Travis, you're good at sneaking. Heard anything?"

"Duh," they chorused. Connor said, "They don't mention it much, but something extremely powerful got stolen. And massive trouble will happen if it's not back by the summer solstice."

"Exactly," nodded Clarisse. "If the Oracle gave somebody a quest, I want in. Don't care if it's Athena, Hephaestus, or what. I'm old enough and strong enough to do this."

Travis inhaled deeply. "Yeah, but right now it's time to head back for dinner."

Harry inhaled as well, and caught a whiff of barbeque. "Yeah, it's been a long day."

Hurriedly he added a second canine to the stag's other side before joining the Stoll brothers and Clarisse on the way to the cabins.

At cabin eleven everyone was eager to head off to dinner though it wasn't quite time yet. The Stoll brothers followed Harry to his place on the floor where they sat down together. Before anyone could speak Luke came over with supplies. Tossing them over to Harry he said, "Found you a sleeping bag. And here, I stole you some toiletries from the camp store."

"That's the Hermes way!" grinned the Stolls. Harry nodded, "Thanks."

Luke looked down at Connor and Travis for a minute before walking off with a shrug. Leaning in Harry asked, "So what's that oath thing you guys mentioned earlier? And what's this 'Big Three' thing? And who's Annabeth waiting for?"

"Let's start with the middle question since it's the easiest," Travis said. "The Big Three are the eldest and most powerful three gods: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. But their kids are like uber powerful- World War II was led by their kids. So afterwards they swore on the River Styx to have no more demigod children since they were too powerful."

"Two years ago, Luke's quest to the Garden of the Hesperides went bad and no more quests are happening. Annabeth kept pestering Chiron for a quest, to see the world," Connor continued. "Malcolm, a friend of ours from the Athena cabin, says that she bugged him so much he finally just told her that he'd gotten a prophecy that said she had to wait until someone special came to camp."

"She keeps hoping that every new demigod is that someone," finished Travis. "And excellent, it's nearly dinnertime."

A minute later a horn call sounded in the distance. Luke shouted, "Eleven, fall in!"

The entire cabin, about a score of people, rushed outside and lined up. The other cabins were doing the same. Since it was by seniority, Harry was at the very back. All together they marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs came up from the meadow, naiads emerged from the lake, and dryads popped out of trees. Combined there were about one hundred fifty beings arriving for dinner.

Lit torches were between the marble columns, and there was a desk-sized central fire in a bronze brazier. Now that he was in it, Harry saw each cabin had its own table which was oddly reassuring to him. All of them were now covered in white cloth trimmed in violet although four remained empty. Cabin eleven's table was exceedingly crowded, though Harry somehow got squished between the two Stoll brothers.

Annabeth was at Athena's table with her half-siblings, all of whom had the same blonde hair, serious expression, lean build, and grey eyes. Similarly, all of Clarisse's half-siblings were bulky and tough-looking at the Ares table. Apparently some sort of belching contest was going on between her and some of her half-siblings.

To the side of Dionysus' table Chiron pounded a front hoof against the marble floor to silence everyone. He raised a silver goblet. "To the gods!"

Everyone raised their empty glasses. "To the gods!"

It was slowly sinking in to Harry that the Greek gods were real here. But then wood nymphs came forward with fruit, cheese, fresh bread, and barbecue on platters for everyone. Harry looked into his empty cup.

"You can have anything nonalcoholic in there," grinned Travis. Connor added, "Trust us, we tried. Just speak to it."

"Lemonade," stated Harry. The cup filled with the sweet yellow drink. Happily Harry began drinking. But as soon as their three plates were full the brothers stood up. Looking around Harry saw that everyone who had filled their plate was heading to the central fire.

"Come on, Hairball," Clarisse ordered him as she stalked by the Hermes table. Quietly Harry followed the Stoll brothers to the brazier. He saw everyone dropping in the best bit of food from their plate into the fire, muttering to themselves as they did so. From behind him, Luke told him, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell."

"Really?" Harry couldn't quite believe that, though compared to everything else that had happened to him lately it seemed reasonable enough. As he approached the fire, Luke bowed his head and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes."

Unsure what to say or even to whom to speak to, Harry just tossed in a chunk of cheese and thought to himself: _I need any help you all can give me. Please?_

Harry backed off from the poof of smoke and hurriedly followed the Stoll brothers back to the Hermes table to start eating. Once everyone had eaten Chiron again pounded his hoof to gain everyone's attention. Harry noticed that Grover was among the satyrs at Dionysus' table along with two blonde-haired demigods and Mr. D himself who got up with a sigh.

"Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next Capture the Flag is Friday. Cabin five currently holds the laurels."

The Ares cabin cheered raucously. Once it died down Mr. D continued.

"Personally, I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Perry Fletcher."

Chiron murmured something.

"Er, Harry Potter. That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

"Excellent! S'mores!" beamed Connor. "Come on, Perry!"

"And sing-alongs!" added Travis brightly.

Conner groaned darkly. "Oh no! Travis can't sing!"

"I can sing! You're the one who can't sing!"

"Hah! You sing like a wombat!"

"A wombat? What?"

"… It was the first animal I thought of."

"Oh brother."

"Well, I am your brother, yes."

Harry sighed but did follow the two down to the amphitheater. The Apollo cabin led a sing-along with songs featuring the Greek gods, everybody made and ate s'mores, and everyone joked about. Harry felt cozy in the light of the campfire, even if on one side he had the probably insane Stoll brothers and on the other he had the tough Clarisse.

Late in the evening as sparks from the campfire drifted up into a clear night sky the conch horn blew again. That woke up Harry so the Stoll brothers nudged him along as they filed back into the Hermes cabin. Exhausted, Harry collapsed onto his sleeping bag and fell asleep instantly.

Travis whispered to his brother, "He's a bit of a straight arrow, isn't he?"

"Meh, with a bit of practice I think he'd made an excellent prankster. But he might also be our best shot at getting quests allowed again."

"Sweet!"

"Like a singing wombat."

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"A wombat? Seriously?"

"Shut up, you two!" yawned Luke from his bed. Sheepishly the two settled down for the night.


	8. Chapter 8: We Capture a Flag

Disclaimer: I just own so, so, so many plot bunnies.

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: We Capture a Flag<strong>

The next few days settled into a routine for Harry. Any routine felt reassuring after so many changes. In the mornings Annabeth tried to teach Harry ancient Greek and they talked about the gods in the present tense. Unfortunately, Harry being not quite a demigod meant learning ancient Greek was tough although not as tough as it could have been. Annabeth was a patient teacher.

After lunch Harry rotated between outdoor activities, looking for something he was good at. Archery was difficult for him. On the other hand he was decent at foot racing due to all the times he had run from Dudley and his friends. Still, that wasn't something particularly demigod-ly. Clarisse tried to teach him wrestling but she kept pulverizing Harry. However he was good at canoeing and swimming, adding to the theory he was the son of a water-related god.

And in his free time Connor and Travis were teaching Harry the art of pranking and mischief. He'd mastered picking locks easily enough, and was getting better at sneaking around. Still, Harry knew everyone was watching to see who Percy's father was. He wasn't a son of Zeus or Hades, although Poseidon couldn't be ruled out. He wasn't as good at poetry and archery as the Apollo kids, nor at fighting as the Ares kids. He didn't have power with vine plants like Dionysus or any skill with metalwork like the Hephaestus kids. And all of the goddesses were out of the question. There were a lot of minor gods in addition to the major ones that were possibilities.

Yet Camp Half Blood wasn't quite home for Harry. Sure, waking up to the smell of fog was nice and the increasing scent of strawberries in the summer afternoons was nice. And any monstrous noises from the woods were distant enough to keep Harry from worrying. And he was becoming friends with the Stoll brothers, Clarisse, and Annabeth among others. So why was the longer he was at camp the more certain he was that he and Percy should have never switched places?

Though he kept sacrificing part of his dinner to the fire each night, Harry was starting to worry about why no gods were responding to his pleas. Were they planning to just destroy him and were waiting for a final verdict? What was going on?

On Thursday Harry had his first sword-fighting lesson. Everyone from cabin eleven gathered in the large circular arena with Luke as their instructor. To warm up they started with basic stabbing and slashing moves on some straw dummies in Greek armor. Harry did it by watching what the Stoll brothers were doing, because the sword felt wrong in his hands. At break Connor tried to help him find a sword that was a better fit but none of them worked for Harry. They were all too long, too light, too heavy, too short, or some combination of the above.

"Tricky customer, huh?" remarked Travis as he came over to the two. "Don't worry- we can break into the armory later and check out the weapons in there. There has to be a fit for you somewhere, Hairball."

Next came dueling in pairs. The Stoll brothers teamed up, and Luke decided to be Harry's partner since it was his first time.

"Good luck," a black-haired camper told Harry. "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."

Harry just gulped and grabbed one of the less awkward swords. Luke demonstrated thrusts, parries, and shield blocks on Harry. With each blow Harry felt his energy ebb a little more.

"Keep up your guard, Harry," he barked, whapping him in the ribs with the flat of his blade. Harry moved up his shield.

"No, not that far up!"

And so on. Everyone else was also covered in sweat by the time Luke called for a break. Harry joined the crowd around the drinks cooler. Luke poured ice water over his head.

"A-ha!" went Connor. He then dumped a glass of ice water over Harry's head. Before he could even complain Harry realized that his energy had been restored though the sword still felt wrong in his hands.

"Okay, circle up, everybody!" commanded Luke. "If Harry doesn't mind, I want to give a little demo."

Harry whimpered under his breath but stepped into the circle made by the ring of campers. Most of them were suppressing smiles, as if relieved that it wasn't their turn to be pounded on by Luke this time.

"I'm going to show you guys a disarming technique. I'll twist the enemy's blade- in this case, Harry- with the flat of my sword so that he can't do anything but drop his weapon. Now, this is difficult. I've had it used against me. No laughing at Harry, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. Slowly Luke performed the move, making Harry's sword drop to the ground. Once Harry retrieved his sword, Luke commented, "Now in real time. We'll keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Harry, ready?

Unsure if he could speak normally, Harry just nodded and prayed that Percy's lingering demigod instincts would resurge so he didn't get creamed again. Harry blocked Luke's sword from striking his sword's hilt, his senses strengthening. As if Luke was moving slowly Harry could see where he'd strike next and was able to block the blows. He tried a jab of his own, but Luke casually blocked it and narrowed his eyes. Now Luke attacked with greater force, and Harry couldn't see the blows coming as easily. With the sword growing more awkward by what felt like the second, Harry decided to try the disarming technique.

The blades clanged together with Harry's point at Luke's base and Harry twisted his blade with his whole weight behind the thrust. Luke's sword fell to the cobbled floor. Harry kept his own blade inches away from Luke's chest. Everyone was silent. Quietly Harry said, "Sorry?"

"Sorry?" echoed Luke after a stunned moment. He suddenly grinned widely. "By the gods, Harry, why are you sorry? Show me that again!"

"I'll try," agreed Harry, putting his sword back up. Sure, he was tired but he wanted to see if he could do that again as well. However, it was no contest. Luke almost instantly disarmed Harry, the blade clattering noisily to the floor.

After a long pause the black-haired camper asked, "Beginner's luck?"

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Luke gave Harry an appraising and intrigued look. "Maybe. But I wonder what'd happen if Harry had a balanced sword…"

After lunch the next day, Harry dashed after Grover. He wanted to know if the satyr would be okay after the Minotaur fiasco. Besides, Connor and Travis wanted to plan out some pranks to play on the other cabins and Harry wasn't quite ready to participate in pranksters' planning.

"Grover! Grover! Wait up!" Harry called, nearly tripping over an untied shoelace. The satyr stopped and waited for Harry to catch up.

"Hey, Harry. How are you liking camp?"

"It's great," smiled Harry. Worriedly he asked, "Are you doing all right?"

Grover looked rueful. "Mr. D said I did the best I could under the circumstances, and that I could resume being a keeper. So there's still a chance that…"

"Oh. Well, I hope that you have success," Harry told Grover earnestly. Sheepishly he said, "I hope that… well… forgive me?"

Grover looked at him oddly. "You didn't do anything on purpose, Harry. It's all right."

"If you're sure. Are you leaving soon?"

"Tomorrow morning," acknowledged Grover with a nod. "I think I'll check out Maine. It's supposed to be nice this time of the year anyway."

"Good luck?"

"Thanks. You too," Grover told Harry. And with a wave he left. Harry exhaled heavily.

"Hey, Harry," commented Annabeth, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Jamming a baseball cap into her jeans pocket she observed, "That was nice of you."

"Well… I did, I mean…" Harry didn't know how to explain himself. Annabeth looked at Grover's retreating back. "He means well and he does try. But sometimes your best isn't enough."

Harry didn't know what that meant. After a minute he just said, "Oh."

"Pop quiz, Harry. List the fourteen major gods and which two aren't 'true' Olympians."

"Okay. There's Zeus and Hera, Poseidon, Apollo and Artemis, Dionysus, Hermes, Poseidon-"

"You just said Poseidon twice," sighed Annabeth.

"Oh. Uh… Athena, Dionysus-"

"Just start over," Annabeth told Harry in a combination of amusement and exhaustion.

"Okay, Annabeth. Athena, Hermes, Dionysus, the love goddess, the smithy god, Poseidon, Hades, Apollo and Artemis, Hestia, Zeus and Hera… um, how many is that?"

"Twelve," responded Annabeth. "The love goddess is Aphrodite and Hephaestus is the smithy god."

"Okay. Oh- Demeter!" Harry didn't like that goddess' name for some reason. Maybe it was because it sounded a bit like detention. "And the last one is… er, um, I know this… Iris? Hecate? Morpheus? Hercules?"

"That last one isn't a god," Annabeth told him patiently. "Come on, just one more."

"Hestia, Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, Hera, and Zeus," Harry listed the six godly children of Kronos. Then he added, "Aphrodite."

Next came Zeus' godly children: "Apollo and Artemis, Athena, Hermes, and Dionysus."

"The smithy god," added Harry, trying to count on his fingers. "That's thirteen. Who am I- OH! Clarisse's dad Ares! That's all of them right? With Hestia and Hades not having thrones at Mount Olympus."

"Correct. Well, Hestia had one but gave it up to Dionysus," Annabeth told me. Harry commented, "So… Zeus and Hera have empty cabins, and so do Artemis and Poseidon. Why?"

"Well, Artemis vowed to be a maiden forever so she has never had any demigod children. Her Hunters stay in her cabin when they visit though. Hera doesn't have any demigod children because she's the goddess of marriage. And the Big Three took an oath not to have any more demigod children."

"After WWII, right?" recalled Harry. Annabeth looked out towards the pine tree on Half Blood Hill, her grey eyes unfocused.

"Yes. Their children were just too powerful so they swore on the River Styx not to have any more."

Thunder boomed overhead. Harry flinched. "That's big, right?"

"The most serious oath you can make," agreed Annabeth, pushing some hair away from her face. "But then, seventeen years ago, Zeus fell for a mortal starlet. Their daughter was named Thalia. However, the River Styx is serious about promises. Because he's immortal and the chief god Zeus got off easy, but Thalia had a terrible fate."

Her eyes were still distant but Annabeth's mouth was twisted sourly. "Children of the Big Three have a stronger scent than most demigods and that attracts more monsters. Hades learned about Thalia and wasn't happy about his brother breaking the oath so he let out many of his worst monsters. A satyr was assigned to her when she was twelve- our age."

Harry didn't correct her.

"He tried to escort her to camp with a couple of other half-bloods she'd forged a family with. They nearly made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."

Harry had been wondering why her eyes had refused to leave the pine tree. In a quiet voice he asked, "What happened?"

"All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with dozens of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia decided to make her final stand. She didn't want to be hunted for all her days and wouldn't change her mind. She forced the satyr and the other half-bloods to leave her. So she fought at the top of that hill and as she died Zeus took pity on her, turning her into a pine tree. Thalia's spirit still helps to protect this valley and she's the reason that hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

"She sounds brave," whispered Harry. Annabeth nodded tiredly. "She was."

Her shoulders straightening Annabeth reminded Harry that capture the flag was that night before walking on. Harry felt down, so he went down to the lake where he had first met the Stoll brothers and skipped stones across the lake until dinner time.

At dinner everyone was buzzing about the upcoming capture the flag game. Harry hadn't gotten a straight answer from anyone what it detailed, saying that it was a 'learn by experience' activity. Once the plates were cleared away, the conch horn was sounded and everyone stood by their tables. Athena's children cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings came in with a silken ten-foot-long banner: it was grey with an image of a barn owl over an olive tree. Ares' children cheered as well when Clarisse and two of her siblings came from the opposite end of the pavilion with a second banner: this one was bright red with a bloody spear and a boar's head painted on it.

Harry turned to the black-haired son of Hermes, Chris. "Shouldn't it be capture the banner then? If we're using banners, not flags, I mean."

"Nah, it's close enough," laughed Chris. Curiously Harry asked, "Do Athena and Ares always lead the teams?"

"Not always, but often," Luke replied, coming over. Nodding, Chris left to talk to someone else. Harry blinked as he realized something. "Wait- what side are we on?"

Luke gave the younger boy a sly look, obviously knowing something he didn't. The scar and torchlight made him look almost threatening. "For now, we're allied with Athena. Tonight, we get the flag from Ares. And _you_ are going to help."

Chiron listed the cabins on each of the two teams. In addition to Hermes, Athena's cabin had allied with Apollo. Ares had gotten the other four cabins. Then he stamped his hoof against the marble to gain everyone's attention.

"Heroes! You know the rules."

Harry shook his head but no one noticed.

"The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game, and all magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but they may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Arm yourselves!"

As Chiron spread his hands the tables suddenly were covered with equipment: helmets, bronze swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal, and more. Harry observed, "It'd be handy if we could do that with our food."

Everyone within hearing looked at him a little funny. Looking up at Luke Harry asked, "So, we're really supposed to use these?"

"Unless you want to get skewered by the other side," Luke told him, eyeing him as if he were crazy. "Here- Chiron thought these would fit. You're on border patrol."

The shield was nearly half of Harry's size and weighed nearly that much, with a caduceus on its center. The helmet had a blue horsehair plume like all the other helmets of Athena's team. Ares' team had red horsehair plumes.

"Blue team, forward!" yelled Annabeth. Everyone cheered and shook their swords as they followed her down the path to the south woods. The red team shouted taunts as they headed north. Harry had no clue what 'border patrol' meant, so he found Connor and Travis. Aunt Petunia always said not to ask questions but he felt that this once would be okay.

"What does border patrol mean?" Harry asked worriedly. Travis shrugged casually. "Just stand by the creek and keep any red team demigods away. Athena- meaning Annabeth too- has a plan."

"She always does," chorused the two, as if it were a long standing joke. Connor added, "If you see her, be careful of Clarisse's spear. It's electric."

"I thought that was Zeus' domain?" frowned Harry. He had hoped he had had that much straight. Travis rolled his eyes. "_Any_ weapon falls under Ares' domain at least partially."

Harry ended up stationed next to a talkative little creek by Annabeth while everyone else dashed off deeper into the woods. The night was warm and moist, with fireflies flickering everywhere. While the helmet and shield were okay, the sword still felt so wrong. Harry gulped, hoping that injuries didn't happen too often. But judging by the fact he was currently wielding a bronze sword, Harry wasn't holding his breath.

In the distance the conch horn blew. Shortly afterwards the noises began- whooping, clanking, yelling. An Apollo demigod dashed by into enemy territory. Harry started to feel nervous, especially when he thought he heard growling. He raised his shield, but the feeling of being watched decreased.

Then Clarisse showed up out of the underbrush, followed by five of her half-siblings. Her eyes were narrowed through the slits of her helmet. The spear the Stoll brothers had warned against was five feet long with its barbed tip flaring with red light. She swished her spear towards her half-siblings.

"He's mine."

Gulping, Harry kept his sword and shield raised. Sauntering towards him, Clarisse informed him, "Time to see if you're any good, Hairball. You beat the Minotaur, but can you beat _me_?"

Harry managed to deflect the first two thrusts with his sword, sparks flying, but for the third he used his shield. That was a mistake: his body tingled all over and his shield arm went numb. With her shield Clarisse knocked him down. As she raised her spear up, Harry rolled out of the way. Clarisse's spear dug into the ground as Harry scrambled to retrieve his dropped sword. The other Ares demigods started laughing.

Clarisse kicked Harry in the chest, sending him sprawling. Aggravated, Harry told her, "The flag is that way. There's no way I could beat all of you. So just go already."

"Not yet," chuckled Clarisse, twirling her electric spear expertly as she approached. "But there's time for that later."

Harry raised his shield as he staggered to his feet.

"Come on, Hairball. Let's fight."

Harry dropped his shield after it took another blow from the electric spear. With a derisive snort Clarisse told him tartly, "Come on, Hairball. Use everything you got!"

Harry mouthed the words, then looked back at the creek in realization. Blocking another thrust from the spear, he ran into the creek. Her eyes gleaming, Clarisse stalked towards him. But Harry felt energized and ready. Like with his practice fight with Luke, he could see the blows coming and block them. And with both hands on the sword, he had better control over its unwieldy weight and could put more weight behind his blows.

Clarisse slashed at Harry's leg, causing a shallow gash. Wincing, Harry backed up. The point of her spear was now literally crackling with electricity. Harry caught the spear with his sword and pushed it down into the water. Both of them got zapped. Yowling, Clarisse yanked her spear out of the water and backed up, her hair clearly smoking under her helmet. Harry felt singed at first but seemed to recover quicker.

"Not bad," snapped Clarisse, spear in hand. "But I am going to win this-"

She didn't get to finish when the elated yelling became audible. Luke appeared, racing towards the boundary line with the red team's banner. The Stoll brothers flanking him fended off the oncoming Ares kids that had come with Clarisse while further back some Apollo kids were fighting the smithy god's kids. Clarisse's jaw dropped.

"A trick! Corpse-breath worms! It was a trick!"

Before she could do anything else Luke bounded across the creek. Shimmering, the banner turned silver with a giant caduceus on it. Coming out of the woods, the blue team cheered raucously. Some of them even picked up Luke and the banner to carry them around.

Clarisse threw her helmet into the creek. Cantering into view, Chiron blew the conch horn to signal the end of the game.

"Not bad, Harry," came Annabeth's voice. Looking around, Harry saw no one. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Shimmering, she materialized as she took off the baseball cap she had had earlier. It had the term 'Yankees' on it. Harry's eyes went flat. "You used me. You used me. You knew Clarisse would get distracted by me and you used me."

"You repeated yourself," pointed out an equally annoyed Clarisse. She snarled at Annabeth, "While I was busy here you sent Luke around the flank. You had it all figured out."

Annabeth shrugged casually. "Athena always has a plan. Always."

"You just were going to- me- you- used- I don't believe- what!" grumbled Harry incoherently. Annabeth sighed, "I came when I could. But you didn't need help."

"Well, that's new," observed Clarisse, staring at the leg wound she had given Harry. Harry gave her a long-suffering look. "Well, yeah, sparky. You gave it to me five minutes ago. It's a sword cut."

Annabeth muttered, "Sparky?"

Then she took a look at Harry's wound. "No- it was a sword wound. Look. How did you do that?"

Looking down, Harry saw the last traces of his injury vanish as if healing in fast motion. "Uh…"

Annabeth was pensive for a minute. Then she ordered Harry, "Step out of the water."

"Huh?"

Clarisse had a smirk at the edges of her mouth. All around them was a celebration but they were ignoring it. "Do what wise girl said, Hairball."

Baffled, Harry did so. He felt the energy drain from him rapidly, and he started to go numb all over. Staggering, Harry almost fell over but Travis popped out of nowhere to prop him up. Annabeth looked furious.

"Oh, Styx. This is not good. I didn't want… I assumed it'd be Zeus…"

Harry looked around in confusion, but then that canine growl came again louder than before. Clarisse raised her recharging spear as the celebration died swiftly. Chiron shouted something in ancient Greek as Annabeth drew her sword.

A rhino-sized black dog crouched on the rocks above the campers with fiery red eyes and dagger-like fangs. Harry's eyes widened when he realized that it was looking right at him. Despite his tiredness he raised his sword but Travis yanked him backward as the black dog lunged forward.

"FOR ARES!" yelled Clarisse, ramming her spear into the canine's head as she too lunged forward. Harry stumbled backward, falling into the creek. Arcs of electricity coursed through the canine's body, Clarisse digging the spear deeper into its skull. A cluster of arrows plunged into its neck. Welching the spear out, Clarisse spat at the dead creature.

Chiron walked over to them, staring down at the dead monster with his bow in hand. It was already starting to fade away into shadow and nothingness. Wan, Annabeth said, "_Di_ _immortales_! That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't… they're not supposed to be here!"

"Someone summoned it," Chiron replied. "Someone inside the camp."

His moment of glory gone, Luke came over with banner in hand. Harry started to feel better in the water, although the hellhound had been terrifying.

"Could have been Cerberus," he muttered to himself. "That would have been really bad."

"It tried to kill Hairball specifically," frowned Clarisse. Harry apologized, "I'm sorry…"

Everyone was staring at him. Then Harry realized they weren't staring at him but at something above his head. Looking up he saw a green hologram of a trident.

"Percy's father," murmured Annabeth. "This is really bad."

"It is determined," announced Chiron as all the campers began kneeling. "Poseidon- Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail to the son of the Sea God and the one in his place- Harry Potter."

Harry blinked, uncomfortable with all the attention. "Oh."


	9. Chapter 9: I am Offered a Quest

Disclaimer: I still don't own them. Which is sad- I'd like to hang out with Luna and Felix… or introduce them to one another. I think they'd get along.

I'm starting to keep a mental chart (still need to make a real one) of their respective traits just to keep the two's potential actions straight. For example, Percy doesn't stop asking questions whereas Harry never ever asks but instead has to be told during or after the fact.

Plus let's keep in mind Harry's just 10 going on eleven here (still) whereas Percy is thirteen already by his story's point.

Also: Happy Chinese New Year! The Dragon is back!

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: I Am Offered a Quest<strong>

That night Harry moved to cabin three. He had never had a room to himself, let alone an entire cabin. Still, he didn't have much stuff- the Minotaur's horn, two sets of camp clothes, and a bag of toiletries. Now he got to sit at the cabin three dining table, pick all of his own activities, call 'lights out' when he felt like it, and generally be the only one in the cabin. It was utterly awesome!

Yes, it seemed like the other demigods were now wary of him but Harry had known he wouldn't have ever really fit in anyway. He wasn't a true demigod.

Either Clarisse or Luke gave him one-on-one sword training lessons. They felt free to beat him up in the process. Connor and Travis still treated him most normally, and had moved onto to teaching him how to hotwire the camp van and the endless uses of shaving cream. But they avoided annoying him now. Annabeth still taught him Greek and myths, but now was heavily distracted and kept muttering about making plans.

One day he got a letter from Mrs. Jackson saying she was divorcing Gabe and resuming work on her novel. Harry wrote back congratulating and thanking her. He hoped Percy knew how lucky he was to have a mom like her. Actually, he hoped Percy knew he was lucky to have a mom at all. But then that night he had an intense nightmare.

He was standing on a beach in the midst of a storm. There was some city on the shore but Harry had no idea which one it was although he did see palm trees. In the distance two men were fighting like wrestlers. One wore a blue tunic and the other wore a green one. Every time one of them landed a blow, the storm worsened. Harry could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, _Give it back! Give it back!_

Harry tried to run forward to stop them, but the storm pushed him back. Then the ground shook and dark and evil laughter came up from the earth. Paralyzed, Harry couldn't move as the ground split under his feet.

_Come down, little hero_, came the deep voice. _Come down!_

Slipping, Harry fell into the darkness. He woke with a start, breathing heavily. Although the clock on the wall said it was past seven, it was still dark out. Thunder roared, and Harry knew he hadn't just dreamed of the brewing storm. He touched his forehead where his lightning bolt scar had been. He sort of missed it and the time when it was the most different thing about him.

There was a knock at the door. Harry told whoever it was to come in as he got out of bed. A satyr came in looking unaccountably nervous. He told Harry, "Mr. D wants to see you."

"Okay," went Harry. "Let me get dressed."

Once he had done so he followed the satyr to the Big House. Harry was hoping that being someone else would protect him from the gods' wrath. Being a son of Poseidon, Harry figured Percy was in huge trouble just for existing. Harry knew that feeling from Privet Drive.

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked black and threatening. A sheet of rain was heading towards the camp.

"Um, should I have an umbrella?" Harry inquired. The satyr looked over at the storm. "No. It never rains at camp unless Mr. D wills it."

"Oh." Harry realized that any previous rainclouds had just scooted around the camp's boundaries. But something about this storm felt dark and impervious to any boundary magic.

At the volleyball pit some Apollo demigods were playing against some satyrs. Dionysus's twins were out in the strawberry fields. Everything and everyone seemed normal enough, but the tension was thick enough to make Harry shiver.

The satyr left Harry at the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus looked as he had on Harry's first conscious day at camp, complete with Diet Coke. Chiron sat across him in his fake wheelchair. There were two sets of cards hovering in the air like they were playing invisible opponents.

"Well, well. Our little celebrity," Mr. D commented without even glancing at Harry. Harry felt tenser yet.

"Come closer, mortal."

Lightning flashed across the clouds and thunder followed, so loud it shook the wind chimes wildly. Mr. D rolled his eyes blandly while Chiron faked interest in his pinochle cards.

"If I had my way, I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp- to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," noted Chiron. Dionysus replied, "Nonsense, the boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a deer… somehow that feels more fitting than a dolphin."

"Mr. D-" Chiron warned him.

"Fine," Mr. D sighed. "There's another option. But it's deadly foolishness, particularly with him not even being a true demigod."

He rose from the table, the invisible players' cards dropping. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into a fawn. Do you understand? And Harry Potter, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

Harry nodded, his mouth dry. Mr. D picked up a playing card, twisting it, and it became a plastic rectangle. Harry hadn't figured out what it was by the time he snapped his fingers. The air bent and folded around him, and he faded out to Olympus leaving behind only the smell of fresh grapes.

Chiron gave Harry a tired and strained smile. "Sit, Harry, please."

Harry did so. Laying his cards on the table, Harry saw that Chiron would have won the hand if the game had continued.

"Tell me, Harry: what did you make of the hellhound?"

"It was big and scary but I think I could cope with another one," Harry told him earnestly.

"Ah. But you'll meet worse, Harry. Far worse, before you're done."

Confused, Harry had to ask- "Done with what, exactly?"

"Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?"

"Uh… okay?" Harry shrugged.

Chiron smiled bemusedly. "Very well. You're brave for a mortal, even one in the body of a demigod. Poseidon and Zeus are having their worst fight in centuries."

"Something got stolen from Zeus," muttered Harry. Chiron leaned forward. "How did you know that?"

"I've been talking to the twins and Clarisse… plus I've been having dreams that confirm it." Harry confessed, surprised Chiron wasn't mad for him interrupting.

Thunder roared across the valley as the storm clouds reached the beach's edge. Pensively Chiron stroked his beard. "They are fighting over a stolen lightning bolt."

Harry touched his forehead again, where his lightning bolt scar had been. "Oh."

"Don't underestimate it. This is a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives," Chiron told a paling Harry. He continued with passion, "This is Zeus' master bolt and symbol of his power. It is the pattern for all other lightning bolts. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that flattened the top of Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne. The master bolt packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

Harry gulped. "And it got stolen?"

"Yes."

"How? Why? Who? Where? When?" Questions tumbled from Harry as the panic filled him. Leaning back, Chiron answered soberly. "Someone had stolen it from Zeus from under his nose in the throne room at the winter solstice council. As he and Poseidon had been fighting earlier, he blamed his brother immediately. Now a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly because that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes Poseidon convinced Perseus to do it."

"Perseus? You mean Percy? As in the guy I switched with?" gulped Harry, thumping his head against the table. "So he's the main suspect?"

"By Zeus. He believes even now Poseidon is having the Cyclopes in his underwater realm make dozens of copies to overthrow him. Percy was in New York City over the holidays, and now has been claimed by Poseidon. This is the last straw for Zeus- he cannot be convinced otherwise now."

Harry poked his head up a bit. "So… could Percy have done it?"

"Most thinking observers would think that thievery is not Poseidon's style. However he and some of the other gods did once trap Zeus in a net and wouldn't release him until he promised to be a better ruler."

"Fail," grumbled Harry, making an extra loud of grumble of thunder. Chiron sighed, "Yet the Sea God is too proud to convince Zeus of that. Both have made non-mutual demands ending on the summer solstice for return of the bolt made by Zeus and an apology made by Poseidon . Unless the bolt is found before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war between gods would look like, Harry?"

"No," he admitted.

"It would cause the world to be in chaos, nature at war with itself, Olympians forced to choose sides between the two gods, destruction, carnage, millions killed, and the end result would be Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight."

Harry somehow felt calm, like he was in the eye of the storm. "Oh."

"And being in Percy's place, you would be the first to feel Zeus' wrath."

It began to rain. Everyone outside stopped what they were doing and looked up at the sky in shock. Harry felt a fury to the storm and he realized that this storm was from Zeus as a warning to him and him alone. That seemed excessive.

"So my quest is to find the master bolt and return it to Zeus."

"There would be no better peace offering that the ostensible son of Poseidon returning Zeus' property."

Harry looked panicked. "So I have ten days to find this master bolt without a clue where it is."

Chiron grimly told him, "I believe I know. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest by seeking the counsel of the Oracle."

Harry nodded warily, rising. "Where is the Oracle?"

"Up in the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

Four stories up the stairs ended under a green trapdoor. Harry pulled the cord, making the door swing down with a wooden ladder clattering down into place.

The air wafting down smelled of mildew, rotten wood, and serpents. With a gulp, Harry climbed up the stairs. The attic was full of Greek hero rejected items: rusty shields, old leather steamer trunks covered in stickers, a table filled with glass jars full of pickled things, and a giant snake-like creature head's stuffed on the wall. But then Harry gulped hard when he saw the mummy.

It was a female body shriveled to a husk dressed in a tie-dyed sundress, lots of beaded necklaces, and a headband over long black hair. Her face was thin and leathery with glassy white slits for eyes. Harry stepped forward but stepped back rapidly when the mummy sat up on her stool and opened her mouth.

Behind him the trap door slammed shut as green mist poured from the mummy's mouth and covered the floor in thick tendrils that hissed. From inside his own head Harry heard the Oracle's voice.

_I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask._

The mummy felt impassive, as if it was only a conduit for a greater, ancient, impartial power.

Harry scooted forward and got out, "How do I retrieve the lightning bolt and get things back to normal?"

The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of Harry to form an illusion. Four people were sitting at a table, sorting hexagon-shaped cards. Some had moving images on them where others just had a blank background. Harry would have said he had never seen them before in his life but they seemed oddly familiar.

The mild man with brown hair and gold-brown eyes facing Harry said in the voice of the Oracle, _You shall go west, and face the god who has turned._

The only woman, who had red hair in a braid and eyes as green as Harry's own ones, stated from her seat on the left: _You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned._

To the right was a handsome black-haired man with grey eyes as mischievous as the Stolls who said: _You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._

And then the man with his back to Harry turned around to speak his bit. Harry clamped a hand over his mouth. Except for the facts his eyes were hazel opposed to green and he was at least a decade older he looked exactly like the real Harry. Sadly he informed Harry: _And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end._

The strangers began to dissolve. The mist retreated, morphing into a green serpent and slithering back into the mouth of the Oracle. The image struck Harry petrified when he knew he ought to be asking what he'd fail to save and who on earth were those people. But Harry only regained control of his mouth when the snake's tail vanished into the mummy's closing mouth and it leaned back against the wall. Now the Oracle looked like she hadn't moved at all.

Feeling shaky Harry went back to the porch, where it was still raining in the camp.

"Well?" asked Chiron. His knees wobbly Harry collapsed into a chair.

"It said I'd go west and get what was stolen back."

"What did the Oracle say exactly? This is important," Chiron warned Harry.

"That I'd go west and face the god who turned. I'd retrieve what was stolen and see it returned." Harry didn't want to say the last two lines. It was childish, but he hoped by not saying them out loud they might not come true. He didn't have many friends. "Nothing else about the bolt."

"Very well, Harry. But the Oracle's words often have double meanings that do not become clear until events come to pass."

Harry nodded, exhausted after his encounter with the Oracle.

Chiron interlocked his fingers together. "West. If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain, Harry?"

"Uh…" Harry remembered that there were the Big Three gods. "Hades?"

"Precisely. The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility. He remains the only one now who has not broken the oath, which cannot sweeten his temper. A Fury came after Percy, and they only have Hades as a master."

"So multiple gods want to kill me for something I didn't do and for being someone I'm really not?" winced Harry.

Chiron confessed, "That's about it. I don't pretend to understand his motives perfectly, or why he chose now to start a war, but one thing is certain. Harry must go to the Underworld and retrieve the lightning bolt."

"Two things," frowned Harry. "Why can't you just tell Zeus and Poseidon this? And the Oracle said west, not down."

"Ah, but suspecting- no matter how strongly- is not knowing. Besides, even if the other gods do suspect Hades, it is among the ancient rules that gods cannot cross each other's territories but heroes can go wherever and do whatever they please if they're bold and strong enough to do so."

"All right. So in under 10 days I have to get to the Underworld, get the lightning bolt back from Hades, and return it to Zeus," Harry ticked off the actions with his fingers.

"That's about right," nodded Chiron. Harry knew he ought to be scared but all he felt was ready to go out on an adventure.

"But where is the Underworld besides west and down?"

"Los Angeles, of course."

Harry blinked. "Where?"

Chiron looked surprised. "It's in California."

"Oh. Well, I'm British so American cities aren't something I know a lot about."

"Ah, right." Chiron had to smile at that. "As in the body of a son of Poseidon you cannot fly in a plane so you'll have to go overland."

"Okay," agreed Harry, disappointed. He had never been on a plane before, he had always wanted to fly.

"Two companions may accompany you, and there have been two volunteers if you will accept their aid."

Near Chiron the air shimmered, and Annabeth appeared with her baseball cap in hand.

"I've been waiting for a quest for a long time, Harry. Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but you're not a true son of Poseidon so maybe it's okay. In any case, if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to for strategy and fighting."

"Nah, just strategy, wise girl," snorted Clarisse as she came out on the front porch. Harry was surprised. "Clarisse?"

"Yeah, I've been listening in since you got back from the attic, Hairball. Time to kick some undead butt," she smirked.

"A trio," smiled Harry, a bubble of happiness rising up in him. "That'll definitely work."

Chiron looked relieved. "Excellent. This afternoon we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashed, and rain poured down throughout camp. Seriously Chiron suggested, "There is no time to waste- you all should get packing."

The three nodded.


	10. Chapter 10: I Ruin a Perfectly Good Bus

Sweetness! Time for the quest to kick in!

Nope, don't own them. This is my birthday weekend- yay! PARTY TIME WITH THE PLOT BUNNIES!

EDITED by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: I Ruin a Perfectly Good Bus<strong>

Harry didn't have much to pack: a spare set of clothes, a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, and the beginner's pranking kit Connor and Travis had given him. The Minotaur's horn he left on a driftwood shelf. From the camp store he had been lent a hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. The mortal ones had been silver, but these had various gods on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. Chiron had given all three of them a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag of ambrosia squares for emergencies.

After good-byes to the other campers the trio headed up Half-Blood Hill. Clarisse used her repaired electric spear from her father as a walking stick while Annabeth's invisibility cap from her mom was sticking out of her jeans pocket. At the top was Chiron in his wheelchair and another man in a chauffeur's uniform. Harry knew him as the blonde guy with eyes seemingly all over his body.

"This is Argus. He's the camp's head of security, Harry. He will drive you into the city and, well, keep an eye on things."

Hearing footsteps behind him, Harry turned around. The girls did the same. Luke was running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes.

"Hey, glad I caught you," he panted as he reached them. Annabeth blushed like she seemed to usually do around Luke. But Luke was looking at Harry. "Just wanted to say good luck. And I thought… I thought maybe you could use these."

He handed over the sneakers, which looked and smelled like normal shoes. But then Luke said, "_Maia_!"

White bird wings sprouted out of the heels, startling Harry so he dropped them. After a minute of flapping around the wings folded up and disappeared.

"Huh," went Clarisse. With a smile Luke told Harry, "These served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days…"

Harry grinned at Luke. "Thanks!"

Uncomfortably Luke just went, "Listen… a lot of hopes are riding on you. So just… kill some monsters for me, 'kay?"

Harry nodded as he picked the shoes back up. After the two shook hands, Luke shook hands with Clarisse as well but gave the delighted Annabeth a hug. As Luke left, Clarisse shook her head at Annabeth in confusion.

"Not a word," she snapped at the other girl.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to, Clarisse." And Annabeth went down the other side of the hill, which had a white SUV at the bottom at the road's shoulder. Behind her was Argus, jingling his car keys.

Hugging the shoes to his chest, Harry begged Chiron, "That low won't hurt, right?"

"Perhaps," conceded an anxious Chiron. "But Harry, you will be in so much danger… and you have limited instincts and less training."

"I guess it's sink or swim then," observed Clarisse, leaning on her spear. Chiron pulled out a regular ballpoint pen with a removable cap from his coat pocket.

"I have kept this for years, not knowing who it was for. Perhaps it is for you."

Harry recognized it as the pen that had turned into a sword during his battle with the Fury. Taking off the cap, Harry watched the pen transform into a celestial bronze sword. It felt far less awkward than any other sword he had wielded yet… yet something about it still didn't feel quite right.

"It'll do for now," decided Harry, capping the pen. "Until I can give it to the real Percy. Thanks, Chiron."

"It is nothing," replied Chiron. "It has a long and troubled history that we don't need to go into. Its name is _Anaklusmos_."

"Or Riptide," noted Clarisse when Harry struggled to access his partial demigod powers to understand the ancient Greek term.

"Precisely," nodded Chiron. "Don't worry about losing it, because it cannot be lost. It will return your pocket within a few minutes. Use it only for emergencies, and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn't harm them in any case."

"'Cause it's celestial bronze," shrugged Clarisse. "It's deadly to monsters and demigods, but mortals aren't important enough to get hurt by it. Monsters can't be hurt by mortal weapons, but we demigods can be. So that's why we need training."

"Oh," went Harry in a small voice as he put the pen into his jeans pocket. "What about communication?"

"Cell phones send a flare up to monsters when used by demigods," Chiron shook his head. Harry nodded, feeling sick to his stomach. Clarisse slugged him in the arm.

"Come on, Hairball. We can't possibly mess up so badly the world ends."

"Uh-huh. Okay."

"You three just need to prevent the biggest war in human history," Chiron reminded them, which didn't make Harry feel much better. So he and Clarisse headed down the hill. When Harry looked back, he saw Chiron had gone into centaur form and had raised his bow as a salute.

Argus drove them across Long Island towards the Big Apple. Harry looked around at the surrounding scenery, still wrapping his head around the idea he was in the future and in America. Besides, it kept his mind off the fact his parents had died in a car.

"Eleven miles and no monsters- boring," muttered Clarisse. Annabeth shook her an irritable look. "Don't jinx it, Clarisse."

Harry suddenly realized why sitting in the middle of the car might be a bad idea as the two girls started arguing fiercely. Finally he broke in.

"Why exactly do you two hate one another so much?"

"Because our godly parents hate one another- we're not supposed to get along," Annabeth informed him. Harry looked between the two, confounded.

"Besides, Athena's kids think they're so smart," sneered Clarisse. Annabeth snapped back, "And Ares' kids think everything can be solved by blowing stuff up! You're borderline okay, Harry, since you're not a real son of Poseidon."

"So… Athena doesn't like Poseidon either?"

"That's an understatement," snorted Clarisse. Harry looked over at Annabeth incredulously. "Are there any gods your mom does get along with?"

"Zeus, and, um…"

"Zeus is her dad," Clarisse pointed out snidely.

"Shut up, Clarisse. Athena usually gets along with Hermes if he's not being too mischievous. And she, Artemis, and Hestia get along great since they're all virgin goddesses and have stuff in common."

Harry stared at Annabeth in shock. "Then how do you exist? And your siblings? If she's a virgin goddess…? I think I need that birds and the bees talk now."

Clarisse stifled a laugh. With a heavy sigh Annabeth just pressed her cheek against the window and refused to talk to either of them again. Clarisse ended up teaching Harry 'rock, paper, scissors' as traffic slowed down the van in one of the boroughs. Argus was quiet the entire time. Around sunset Argus dropped them off at a bus station as it began to drizzle. Harry wished he had a jacket as Argus unloaded their bags and helped them get tickets. Then he drove away, waving.

Harry felt terrified. Before switching with Percy, he had only been to school, the house, and Mrs. Figg's home. Now he was about to travel across three thousand miles by land. He felt like puking but instead rested his head against the cool brick of a nearby building. Annabeth was still mute. Clarisse sauntered up to Harry.

"Nice aggravating of Annabeth, Hairball. The birds and the bees bit was a nice touch."

"I meant it," Harry moaned. "Percy might be eleven going on twelve but me Harry? I'm ten going on eleven. And I need to save the world."

Clarisse was quiet for a minute. "Well, you're the toughest ten-year-old I've ever met then, and I met me at that age, you know."

"Thanks, Clarisse," Harry smiled at her as the bus pulled in. Clarisse slugged him in the arm. "Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

The three sat together in the back of the bus. Their luggage was stowed, but the trio felt unnerved. As the last passengers got on Annabeth broke her self-imposed silence to whisper, "Look."

An old lady with an orange-knit hat and a huge purse was boarding the bus. When she looked up, Harry's heart skipped a beat. It was Mrs. Dodds. Behind her came two more old ladies that looked like her sisters but one wore a green hat and the other wore a violet one. Clarisse got out her spear in its laser pointer form.

"Excellent. All three Kindly Ones."

The three sat in the front row behind the driver, with two of them crossing their legs over the walkway in a subtle message that no one was leaving. With a roar the bus came to life and started to head through the streets of New York. Annabeth tried the windows.

"They don't open, so no escape that way."

"Can't we just fight them?" questioned Clarisse. Annabeth just glowered at her. "Is there a back exit?"

"No," replied Harry, looking back. Remembering his elementary school bus he asked, "How about one in the middle?"

They looked although they were approaching a tunnel by that time. Clarisse chuckled callously. "No option but to fight, eh? It's better to start a fight than to retaliate."

"What about the mortals?" hissed Annabeth. Harry pointed out, "The Mist will probably keep them from seeing anything too weird, right?"

"True," acknowledged Annabeth, her right hand edging towards her dagger. "Okay. I'll grab our stuff and you two can go fight monsters to your hearts' content."

"Sweetness." Clarisse stood up as the bus hit the Lincoln Tunnel, releasing her spear into its true form. Harry followed, getting out Riptide while Annabeth grabbed the luggage and put on her baseball cap. Despite her comments, Harry suspected Annabeth was a little disappointed to not be fighting evil.

In the tunnel, it was dark except for the bus' lights down the aisle. Out of the silence came Mrs. Dodds' voice as she stood up.

"I need to use the restroom."

"So do I," stated the second Fury. The third one echoed, "So do I."

"You're going to have to hold it," sneered Clarisse as she and Harry reached the middle of the bus. The Furies snarled as they too started down the aisle. They began to change- their bodies shriveled, they grew bat-like wings, their feet grew claws, and their hands grew gnarled and sharp. Plus their handbags turned into fiery wings.

"Where is it? Where?" the Furies hissed, lashing their whips. Clarisse and Harry deflected the blows but all the mortals started screaming. As they fought, the bus suddenly jerked to the right, throwing everyone to the left. The Furies in particular hit the windows hard, cracking the glass. Harry banged his head against the floor with a wince. Still, he hurried to his feet. Clarisse was jabbing at a Fury with her spear though it was doing a good job of dodging. The bus continued to swerve, screeching against the tunnel's wall for a good half-mile.

The pitter-patter of rain on the roof resumed as the bus careened out of the tunnel. Somehow the bus got down an exit, soon racing down a rural road. Clarisse and Harry were managing to hold their own, if barely thanks to the bus's antics. The Furies were still demanding to know where it was, but Clarisse and Harry didn't have a clue what they were ranting about.

Then the bus skidded to a stop, if only doing so after spinning in a circle and crashing into some trees. Lights came on and the door slammed open. The mortals dashed outside. Giving Harry a look, Clarisse broke a cracked window with her combat boot and dove out as well.

"Come on, Hairball!"

Capping Riptide, Harry dove out as well, tumbling into a mud puddle. Wiping the mud off his face, he got up. The Furies blew the roof off the bus. Flying up and out Mrs. Dodds snarled, "Perseus Jackson. You have offended the gods. You shall die."

Harry just tilted his head as the other two Furies flew up to join their sister. Then from out of the storm a huge lightning bolt struck down the bus and the Furies. Clarisse dragged him, yelling, "If we don't get out of here, we'll be next!"

An angry wail, followed by two more, came from the bus' ruins.

Annabeth's voice said, "They're getting reinforcements! We need to get out of here!"

"I said that!" snapped Clarisse. Harry got out, "Actually, you said we'd be struck down with lightning. But they're both valid points…"

"Shut up!" both girls yelled as they ran into the woods as the downpour continued, the best source of light the burning bus behind them.

* * *

><p><span>…<span>

Poor Harry.


	11. Chapter 11: The Garden Gnome Emporium

Time to continue the quest! Which Rick Riordan owns, not me. Well, at least most of it- some of it belongs to JK Rowling. And editing rights go to Mellie Erdmann- thanks a lot! ^^

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><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: We Visit the Garden Gnome Emporium<strong>

Harry didn't know much about quests, but he figured a bus blowing up wasn't a good omen. When still invisible, Annabeth had given him and Clarisse each a backpack so she could keep pace with them. They were deep in the dark woods now, walking through the muddy remains of a brook while the trees smelled sour around them.

Her cap in her pocket, Annabeth tugged at her curly ponytail. "All three Kindly Ones…"

"Awesome, right?" chuckled Clarisse callously. Annabeth shook her head. "We need to stay alive- this might be our only chance at a quest."

"Don't remind me," winced Harry. Quietly he asked, "Do you think Percy did steal the lightning bolt? I mean, he and Grover were friends so he couldn't have been that bad, right?"

"Poseidon's kids have always been… changeable. Unpredictable," Clarisse told him. "It's not impossible. But Hades and his cohorts are more possible."

"Right." That didn't entirely reassure Harry. "So… what are your mortal parents like?"

"My dad is a history professor. I didn't get along with him and my stepmom, so I ran off," Annabeth responded curtly, sloshing through the darkness. Clarisse replied quietly, "My mom is a cop. That's why Ares fell for her. But I prefer it at camp where we train for battle. And now I finally get to battle. Fighting all three Kindly Ones is a pretty sweet way to kick-start a quest."

Annabeth muttered something under her breath. Out loud she asked, "What about your parents, Harry?"

"They died in a car crash when I was one," Harry told the older girls. "I was raised by my Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon."

"That sucks," frowned Clarisse. "What were their names?"

Harry blinked. "I… I don't know. They never told me."

"That really sucks."

"Clarisse!"

"What? It does!"

Harry spotted a light in the distance. Hoping to stop the argument before it began he asked, "Hey, what's that?"

As they drew closer, the light became neon and colorful. The smell of fried food wafted through the trees, making Harry's stomach rumble. Finally they reached a two lane dirt road. On the other side was a closed down gas station, an old movie billboard, and a single open business.

It was an odd place with a neon sign, with a big warehouse guarded by what must have been hundreds of stone statues all around it. Squinting at the neon sign, Annabeth tried to read it through her dyslexia.

"Harry, what does it say?" Clarisse demanded after a moment.

"It says Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium," Harry responded. Slugging him in the arm she remarked, "It's nice having a non-dyslexic kid along on a quest."

"Whatever, let's eat," commented Annabeth, walking closer to the road. Clarisse's stomach rumbled and she agreed, "That battle did burn a lot of energy."

Harry followed the two girl demigods across the road. Flanking the doorway were two gnarled little garden gnomes that looked to be frozen in mid-wave as if they had had their picture taken.

The front lot's statues largely consisted of cement animals and children. As they neared the door, it creaked open. In the entrance stood a woman in a black gown that covered her entire body and her head was wrapped in black gauze except for her dark eyes. Her brown hands were elegant but wrinkled. In an accented voice she asked, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?"

"They're… um…"

"There was a bus accident and we got separated from them," Clarisse sort-of fibbed glibly. The woman replied, "Oh you poor dears. You must come in. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please, for there is a dining area there."

"Thank you," the trio chorused as they followed her in. Annabeth looked over dubiously at Clarisse, who smirked. "Hey, Ares' children aren't just brawn."

The warehouse held even more statues and the food's aroma was even stronger indoors to the point of overwhelming any other thought. Meekly the trio went to the back of the warehouse, hoping for food. Behind them Aunty Em locked the door.

The dining area had a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, a nacho cheese dispenser, a grill, and several steel picnic tables. Gesturing, Aunty Em told them, "Please, sit down."

"Thank you," nodded Harry, doing so. Vaguely wary the other two girls did the same. Clarisse got out a wad of money but Aunty Em waved it off.

"No, no. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for nice children separated from their parents."

Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth smiled tiredly. Aunty Em stiffened, making Harry unaccountably nervous, but then she relaxed quickly.

"Quite all right, Annabeth. You have such beautiful grey eyes, child."

As she disappeared behind the counter Harry shifted uneasily. "Did we tell her our names?"

"No…" Annabeth realized as the sounds of cooking reached their ears. Clarisse reached for her laser pointer. "Maybe we should go."

Harry's stomach rumbled but he had to concede, "Well… something does feel a little weird. But can't we eat first?"

Before they could discuss it further Aunty Em returned with their dinners and the food looked and smelled so good that they instantly began eating. Leaning forward, Aunty Em just watched them eat without taking off her headdress with her fingers interlaced. Halfway through their large meals, Harry stopped slurping his shake.

"Does anyone else hear that hissing noise?"

Annabeth and Clarisse were quiet for a minute but then shook their heads. Aunty Em said, "Hissing? Perhaps it is the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Percy."

"Thank you," he mumbled.

Looking back at the statues Clarisse noted, "So you sell statues, not just gnomes?"

"Oh, yes. Anything for the garden. Custom orders, mostly. Statuary is very popular, you know."

"No kidding?" went Harry. "Do you get a lot of business here?"

"Not so much, no. Not since the highway was built. Most cars do not go this way anymore. I must cherish each customer I get."

"Uh-huh," gulped Harry while Clarisse looked behind them at a statue of a girl holding an Easter basket. She shifted uneasily, nudging Harry in the ribs. Looking at the surrounding statues, Harry realized that very few of them looked happy- in fact most of them looked startled or terrified.

Sadly Aunty Em commented, "Ah, you notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face."

"You make these yourself?" Clarisse commented.

"Indeed. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have moved on, and Aunty Em is alone. I only have my statues and that is why I make them. You see, they are my only company."

"Three sisters… stone statues…" mumbled Annabeth as if trying to remember something. Clarisse jumped up, wiping her greasy hands on her jeans. "I think we'd better get going. Our parents are probably worried about us."

"Of course," Aunty Em replied serenely. "But first a story and a picture, yes?"

Annabeth and Clarisse exchanged a look, coming to some sort of realization. Clarisse said tartly, "No, we'd better not linger. Come on, guys."

"Right," agreed Annabeth, getting up as well. Confused and lulled by Aunty Em's voice and food, Harry still trusted the two demigods and got to his feet. "Thanks for the dinner, Aunty Em, but we ought to be going."

"I'm afraid not, demigods," she said quietly, reaching for her headdress. Clarisse said a word that would have gotten Harry days in his cupboard if he said it around Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia before dashing off, laser pointer in hand. Getting out her baseball cap, Annabeth disappeared and fled as well. She shouted, "Close your eyes!"

But before he did, Harry saw that with her headdress in her hands, Aunty Em's hands had changed to warty gnarled ones with bronze claws. He muttered, "_Maia_!"

Flying off, Harry crashed into a statue due to his eyes being closed. With the pieces of the statue all around him, he opened his eyes.

There was a strange sound as Aunty Em approached Harry. "Just look at me, and you can stay with me forever, young demigod. And it would be a pity to destroy such a handsome face."

Her voice was hypnotic but what really freaked out Harry were the smaller voices coming from her that kept repeating the same phrase: be as still as stone.

There was bright flash as Clarisse apparently set the grill on fire with her electric spear. While Aunty Em was distracted Harry flew off, restarting the flying sneakers. In a nearby glass ball he caught a glimpse of her reflection- her hair was moving and squirming like serpents. Harry gulped loudly. Aunty Em was actually a monster- but which one?

Kindly she told Harry and Clarisse, "Annabeth's mother, the accursed Athena, did this to me. She turned me from a beautiful woman into this."

"Yeah, well, you did the deed in one of her temples! EW!" shot back Clarisse as she triggered a domino fall of statues. Annabeth chimed in, "Run!"

So Harry flew around, trying to piece together who she really was.

"Silence!" Aunty Em snarled, but then she regained her comforting tone. "The girl must die, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust but you, my dear, need not suffer."

Harry dodged statues of a tourist couple, his heart in his throat. Had it not been a life-threatening situation, Harry would have loved the sensation of flight. As it was, he was having a hard time not enjoying it. Aunty Em continued, heading towards him. "Do you really want to help the Olympians? Do you not understand what awaits you on this foolish quest, Percy? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the gods! You would be better off as a statue- it would be far, far less painful."

"Shut up!" Harry yelled, knocking down a statue of a plump woman as he crashed.

"Harry," yelped Annabeth as she came over to him, still invisible. She whispered, "I'll distract her. You fly behind Medusa and cut off her head with Riptide- without looking. Here, take this. It's not a shield, but it'll do."

She gave him a teal gazing ball. Annabeth continued, "The convexity will cause some distortion so the reflection's size should be off by a factor of-"

Then she caught sight of Harry's very confused face. Rolling her eyes, she told him, "Just look at her in the glass- NEVER look at her directly!"

Harry got out Riptide, turning it into a sword. Clarisse was knocking down statues everywhere, but she couldn't distract Medusa for long and lacked the right sort of weapon to bring her down. Keeping his eyes on the orb, Harry flew up and searched for Medusa. He found her, and swooped in. Even the gazing ball's swirls couldn't lessen her ugliness.

"You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy. I know you wouldn't," Medusa crooned. But Harry resisted, and lifted his sword. He placed it at her throat.

"Two problems with that. One, you're a monster, not an old woman. And two, I'm not Percy."

Wielding Riptide, he lifted it back and slashed it through her throat with a disgusting sound. There was a sharp hiss as Medusa disintegrated, with a thump as something hit the ground. Flying back a few yards, Harry landed but kept his eyes shut.

From somewhere nearby Clarisse crowed, "First all three Furies and now Medusa? Man, I love quests."

"Keep your eyes closed," Annabeth warned them. After a minute she told them it was safe to open their eyes. Something head-sized was wrapped up in Medusa's black veil. Harry's stomach heaved as he realized it wasn't head-sized but was Medusa's actual head.

"Ew…"

"The head is a spoil of war once it's been cut off, like the minotaur horn. But it can still petrify, so don't unwrap it."

Behind the smoldering snack counter they found some grocery bags and they put the head in them to keep it extra secure. Then they all sat down at the picnic table, worn out now that the adrenaline was gone.

Finally Clarisse commented, "Good thing she thought Hairball here was a son of Poseidon, otherwise she would have just killed us right off."

"Mm," went Annabeth, staring at the outer bag. It said: We Appreciate Your Business!

"So, what happened? Poseidon and Medusa snuck into Athena's temple to, um, be intimate so Athena turned her into a monster?"

"And her two sisters for helping her," added Annabeth. Harry shook his head. "All right then. So we have nine more days to find the lightning bolt and get it to Mount Olympus?"

"Yep," nodded Clarisse. "Tough, but we can do it. We've stayed alive so far, right?"

"I guess…" Harry was starting to be annoyed with the Greek gods but he didn't exactly have a choice in the situation. "Let's get some sleep."

"Here?" frowned Annabeth, looking around. Standing up, Clarisse shrugged, "Even other monsters avoid Medusa… for a few hours we should be safe here."

There was a crack of thunder outside. Clarisse added, "And it's pouring out. It's dry in here. Don't be such a worrywart."

"No fire," warned Annabeth. "That will attract monsters. Let's make a plan before going to sleep."

Nodding, Harry rested his head on his arms. But before he knew it he was asleep.


	12. Chapter 12: We Get Advice from a Poodle

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter. Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: We Get Advice from a Poodle<strong>

Once again, Harry had a weird dream. He was standing near the edge of a huge pit in a dimly light cavern, whispering grey mist-like creatures swirled all around him. They tugged at Harry's clothes, trying to pull him away from the edge, but Harry stubbornly pressed forward to the pit's brim. Looking down, Harry almost wanted to jump in to see what was at the bottom because the pit was so vast and dark. All holes had to have a bottom, right?

A presence rose up from its depths, an extremely evil and enormous one. Once raised to the upper reaches of the pit, its echoing voice spoke to the boy. It felt ancient and cold, weighing down Harry.

"_The little hero, too weak and young, but perhaps you will do. They have misled you, boy. Barter with me. I will give you what you want."_

A shimmering image hovered over the void, showing Harry the four people he had seen up in the Oracle's attic along with two newcomers: a redheaded boy and a bushy-haired girl his own age. Just seeing them created a tug at Harry's heart that he didn't understand. But the six looked panicky, as if they wanted Harry to leave this place far behind. Harry tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come.

Chilling cackles filled the void. Something pulled Harry forward, trying to drag him into the pit. Hungrily the voice spoke again, gaining anger with every syllable.

"_Help me rise, boy. Bring me the bolt. Strike a blow against the treacherous gods!"_

The people's images faded away as the misty creatures panicked around him. Harry realized the thing was trying to use him to pull itself out but he didn't know how to stop it.

Then he was shaken awake. Blearily he looked around. From sleeping at the table he'd developed a crick in the neck but someone had covered him with a checkered picnic blanket. Clarisse stood over him, her expression dour.

"I'm guessing I can look forward to nightmares too, huh?"

Harry stared up at her. "What do you mean?"  
>"Demigods usually have bad dreams foretelling stuff when on quests. Anyway, it's your turn to stand watch. Don't fall asleep. Wake up Annabeth around three or four."<p>

Harry nodded as he stood up, tying the blanket around his neck like a cape. Clarisse unrolled her sleeping bag near Annabeth's and conked out, snoring softly. Quietly Harry paced back and forth. The long shadows of the statues and minimum lighting were fairly creepy especially now that Harry knew those statues were all Medusa's victims. Keeping an ear out for any odd sounds, Harry wandered through the statues until he found a stag. It wasn't quite right, but the sight still filled him with happiness.

He petted the stone flank, wishing he could at least understand who he was. Or rather, who he had been thanks to the switch. And what if Percy had stolen the lightning bolt? What if the voice in the pit had convinced him of the theft? And if he had, would Harry be killed in his place? Could Percy have done the switch for that very reason? Wandering back over to the picnic area, Harry studied Percy's face in the reflection of the steel picnic table. But it didn't look like the face of a thief. Besides, Chiron thought it was Hades, not Percy, and he had been Percy's Latin teacher.

Left alone to his thoughts, Harry wandered the Emporium anxiously. An owl hooted several times, and every once in a while he heard something that could have been a monster but never approached the building. When he started to yawn against his will and the horizon was starting to lighten, Harry woke up Annabeth from her own restless sleep. Sleepily he untied his makeshift cape and got out his sleeping bag to resume sleeping.

When he woke up again, it was to the smell of burgers. Clarisse was cooking, and Annabeth was packing up her stuff. Stretching, Harry told them, "Morning!"

Annabeth nodded in response, pulling her curls back into a ponytail.

"Burgers for breakfast. This is the life." Clarisse flipped a burger, smirking widely.

Harry had to laugh at that. The burgers did smell pretty good. The trio was eating their unusual breakfast when there was a knock at the door. As they tensed up Grover's voice called out to them.

"Annabeth? Harry? … Clarisse?"

Happily Annabeth got up. "It's Grover!"

"Oh, great," Clarisse made a face as she bit into her half-eaten burger. Annabeth led Grover back to the snack area a few minutes later, telling him about their battle against Medusa. Looking back, Grover shuddered.

"I saw my Uncle Ferdinand back there… creepy. So you guys took on Medusa and won? Wow," commented Grover. Clarisse looked prideful.

"Do you want breakfast, Grover?" asked Harry, holding up his burger.

Making a face, Grover replied, "No thanks. I'm a vegetarian and I already ate some tin cans earlier."

A dirty pink poodle appeared from the maze of statues.

Clarisse eyed it dubiously. "Um, what's that?"

"This is Gladiola. He ran away from his family," Grover explained. Curiously Harry asked, "You can speak to animals?"

"All satyrs can," shrugged Annabeth. Curiously she asked Grover, "Weren't you going to Maine?"

Grover's cheeks turned pink. "After… after the last time you were outside camp, I figured I ought to check in with you."

Annabeth averted her eyes from the satyr and her fellow demigods. "Right."

Clarisse chewed loudly on her burger, but she looked sullener than usual, so Harry knew he was missing something. Rubbing the back of his neck, he told Grover, "Well, thanks for checking on us."

"Of course," nodded Grover, kneeling down to pet Gladiola. "So, what's your next step?"

"We're not sure," admitted Annabeth. "Clarisse and I talked a bit after Harry fell asleep, but we were too tired to think of anything."

Gladiola let out a shrill bark.

Grover looked thoughtful. "Gladiola suggests the train."

"I've never been on a train before," Harry commented brightly. "Sounds like fun."

"Hm," nodded Annabeth thoughtfully. "It's not as fast as a plane, but it's faster than a bus. And we have enough money for the tickets."

"The train sounds like a good idea," agreed Clarisse, licking her fingers.

"So the train it is?" asks Harry. The two girls nodded. Harry beamed, "Great, that's decided. Thanks, Gladiola."

The poodle wagged his tail.

"Gladiola and I can come with you three as far as the train station, if you want," volunteered Grover. But Annabeth shook her head.

"Thanks, Grover, but you ought to go to Maine and see if you can find any demigods… or sign of Pan."

Grover nodded seriously. "Right. Well, good luck on your quest! Bye, Annabeth. Bye, Harry. Bye, Clarisse."

And giving Annabeth a hug, Harry a handshake, and Clarisse a wary wave Grover left with Gladiola on his heels. Finishing their breakfast, the trio made sure they had everything and left Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium.

It was overcast and dreary, but Clarisse whistled a march as they trekked along the side of the road, avoiding all the trash scattered about. Annabeth looked around it, shaking her head.

"Grover would hate this. He's big on the environment- well, all satyrs are. That's part of why they look so hard for Pan."

"Who's that?" Harry tried to remember who Pan was but failed.

"The Lord of the Wild, the god of wilderness and satyrs. It was claimed thousands of years ago that he had died but the satyrs have always refused to believe that, and keep searching. Grover wants to get a searcher's license in order to get permission to search for Pan… even though no satyr has ever returned from the search."

"None?" breathed Harry.

Annabeth shook her somberly. "None."

"Now that's dedication," remarked Clarisse, pausing in her whistling. Harry fell behind the two girls, wondering if he could ever feel so strongly about something that he'd ever willingly die for it.

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><p><span>Sorry; couldn't resist the cheap parallel there at the end.<span>


	13. Chapter 13: I Plunge To My Death

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter. And editing was done by Mellie Erdmann.

Yay- definitely past the halfway mark for the first pair of fics. Whoop-whoop!

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><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: I Plunge to My Death<strong>

Harry had never ridden a train before, and it was a lot of fun. After the first hour or so, he had gone to the service car, bought a black marker, and had gone into the boys' bathroom. Making sure he was alone, he recreated his lightning bolt scar using the mirror and the black marker. It made him feel more like Harry Potter and less like Percy Jackson.

Quietly Harry returned to the two girls, who were looking at the map. As he sat down Annabeth informed him, "All right, we only got tickets to Denver. After that, it'll probably be another bus or we'll scrounge for enough money to buy tickets to Los Angeles."

"Okay. But where's Denver?"

"Colorado, Hairball," sighed Clarisse. "I know you're British, but really?"

"Hey, I know Washington DC is on the East Coast, about halfway between Maine and Florida. But yes, that's about it."

Clarisse and Annabeth exchanged incredulous looks. Folding his arms across his chest Harry pointed out, "I am British, after all. Excuse me if I learned British geography opposed to American."

"Hairball, you got something on your forehead," Clarisse observed.

With a shrug Harry admitted, "I drew my scar on Percy's forehead. It makes me feel more like me."

"Okay then, Hairball." And Clarisse went back to staring out the window.

Harry loved the feel of the train moving beneath his feet. And from the window he could sometimes see mythological creatures: a family of centaurs, a giant golden lion, and tiny creatures moving in the fields of shimmering grain. That night, Harry dreamed again of the black pit.

When he woke up from his nightmare Annabeth asked, "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just then, you mumbled about not helping someone. Who were you dreaming about?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "It's nothing; just a bad dream."

"Harry, with demigods, it's never 'just a bad dream'," Annabeth informed him.

"Well, I'm not a real demigod, remember?" Harry replied, turning away from her. He tried to get to sleep again, but it was difficult.

He slept so lightly, he could almost hear Annabeth and Clarisse's conversation, but eventually he fell into a deeper sleep that left him alone in serene silence.

On June 13th, the train went over a vast river Clarisse called the Mississippi (which did sound vaguely familiar to Harry) and into St. Louis. Annabeth kept staring at a huge steel arch in the city.

She sighed dreamily, "I want to do that."

"What?" asked Clarisse idly, messing around with her laser pointer. Annabeth gestured at the arch. "Build something like that. You know the Parthenon? Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods ever. Something that will last for a thousand years."

"That'd be pretty cool," agreed Harry. "So you want to be an architect?"

"Yes. Athena expects her children to create things, not to just wage endless war." The second part was aimed at Clarisse, who just huffed at the blonde. Annabeth kept her eyes on the arch until it disappeared behind a hotel.

The train pulled into the downtown station, the intercom informing them that there would be a three-hour layover before the train departed for Denver.

"Come on, let's go sightseeing," Annabeth told Harry and Clarisse, standing up. The two exchanged a bemused look. Annabeth insisted, "This might be our only chance to see the Gateway Arch and to go to the top. Are you guys coming or not?"

"Fine," the two groaned, getting up. They knew better than to split up.

HPJ-HPJ-HPJ-HPJ

After the mile long trek to the Arch, the trio were glad the lines were short this late in the day. Clarisse and Harry pushed Annabeth through the museum, uninterested in all the factoids Annabeth kept sprouting about the arch's construction. Still, Clarisse kept looking around on the outlook for any monsters that might attack. Having bought some Mars Bars, Harry offered one to Clarisse, asking, "See anything?"

"Not yet," Clarisse replied shortly, opening the candy wrapper. Harry figured she had the same feeling of foreboding as him. Nervously Harry asked both girls, "Doesn't Hades have a hat like Annabeth's?"

"Don't call him by his name," Clarisse frowned.

Annabeth's hand went to her baseball cap in her jeans pocket. "You mean the Helm of Darkness. That's his symbol of power. Clarisse and I saw it at the winter solstice council meeting. It's the only day of the year that he's allowed on Mount Olympus since it's the darkest day of the year."

With relish Clarisse told Harry, "It's way more powerful than any magic baseball cap. The Helm of Darkness enables him to become darkness, to melt into shadow and pass through walls. Wearing it, he can't be touched, seen, heard, or smelled. Plus it can radiate such intense fear that it can drive you insane or even stop your heart. How scary awesome is that?"

Nervously Harry looked around. "So he could be here now, watching us?"

Clarisse looked around hopefully. "That'd be so cool."

Annabeth looked concerned, but didn't say anything. Together they went up the tiny elevator car to the top of the Arch, along with a lady that reminded Harry of his 'Aunt' Marge, complete with a dog under her arm. But this dog was a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. Harry got distracted by how cool it was to go up in a curve, so he almost didn't hear the lady ask, "No parents?"

"No, ma'am," replied Annabeth smoothly. "They're down below- scared of heights."

"Oh, the poor darlings." The lady's beady eyes, coffee-stained teeth, and denim clothes had Harry anxious. When the small beige dog growled, he almost flinched.

"Now, now, sonny. Behave," the lady scolded him.

"Is his name Sonny?" Annabeth tried to make conservation.

"No," she smiled, as if that cleared up everything.

At the top of the Arch was an observation deck. Rows of tiny windows ringed the round room, half showing St. Louis and half showing the Mississippi. Harry loved the view, whereas Annabeth was more impressed with the construction and kept rambling on about how she would have done it differently. Clarisse got bored and antsy pretty fast though, letting out a sigh of relief when the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.

She steered Harry and Annabeth towards the exit, dragging the other girl onto the elevator. Harry was about to follow them when he realized that there were two other tourists inside already, filling it.

"Next car, sir," the park ranger told Harry.

Although Annabeth looked a bit nervous Clarisse told him, "We'll wait for you at the bottom."

Harry nodded and stepped back. Besides himself and the park ranger, there were the dog lady and a couple with their young son. Walking over to the windows, Harry gave the dog lady a curt smile. She smiled back, a forked tongue flickering between her teeth.

Blinking, Harry backed up a bit. The Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping loudly at the black-haired boy. The lady frowned, "Now, now, sonny. Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here."

"Doggie!" squealed the boy happily before his parents pulled him back. Harry couldn't blame them, seeing as the small dog was now baring his teeth and foaming at the mouth.

"If you insist, son," sighed the dog lady.

Harry decided to get out Riptide. As the pen turned into a sword, the dog lady rolled up her sleeves to reveal scaly green arms. Her smile widened, showing off fangs. And her pupils turned into sideways slits, like a snake's. The Chihuahua barked even louder, and with every bark it increased in size. First to the size of a collie, then to a lion, the barks becoming roars.

The mortals backed up into the walls, panicked. The monster was now tall enough that its back met the ceiling. Its head was a lion's complete with mane; its body and legs were a goat's; and for a tail it had a ten-foot-long diamondback serpent that was hissing about biting and killing.

Weirdly enough, the rhinestone collar still hung around its neck, with words in ancient Greek written on it. Harry couldn't focus on translating though, not with the monster's mouth only ten feet away from him. His sword was up in a defensive position, but felt too heavy in his hands.

The fat lady let out a hissing laughter. "Be honored, Harry Potter. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood, let alone the Chimera. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!"

Harry opted to get it over with, and jabbed Riptide at the Chimera's eye. The Chimera dodged, and the bronze blade bounced off the rhinestone collar. Meanwhile the mortals were desperately trying to open the emergency exit doors. Breathing fire, the Chimera charged at Harry. Harry dashed out of the way, the flames burning through the carpeted floor and making a ragged hole in the side of the Arch. The melted metal steamed around the hole's edges.

Harry sliced at the tail, but only gashed it. The tail furiously bit into his shoulder, causing severe pain. Not wanting to risk any more damage, Harry jammed Riptide in between the Chimera and its collar. And with a shove helped by Percy's greater body mass, Harry shoved himself and Chimera out the hole.

Behind him Echidna let out a scream. The Chimera let out a roar and a jet of flame as it fell. Harry had lost his grip on Riptide seconds after jumping out and was now free falling.

As he screamed as the river drew closer, Harry hoped that the mortals would be okay with Echidna still up there.

Somehow Harry didn't die when he hit the water. He sank slowly to the river's murky bottom. Above him, though, the Chimera splattered into dust upon contact. Ouch. Harry let out a breath, bubbles rising to the surface. He had been sure he had plunged to his death.

* * *

><p><span>…<span>

I'm not quite sure why these past two chapters have been so short. Sorry. But next time, an Internet celebrity & his big brother will make a guest appearance! Cause we're in St. Louis, see.


	14. Chapter 14: I Become A Known Fugitive

Happy Presidents' Day!

I don't own Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, or Miles & Noah Antwiler. Pity…

Aah… not sure why the chapters are shrinking in length for this fic. Good thing it has more chapters overall compared to its counterpart. 

And yes, there is censoring going on. Because it's Noah (the Spoony One) and his big brother Miles. They're here partly to appease my inner rabid Spoony fangirl and partly for padding.

Edited by poor Mellie Erdmann, who doesn't understand who these two random guys are. Sorry.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: I Become a Known Fugitive<strong>

Harry had been at the bottom of the Mississippi for nearly a minute when he realized he was breathing underwater as if it was perfectly normal, and he could see underwater just fine as well. Though he almost wished he couldn't- there was garbage and silt everywhere on the river bottom. Still, his shoulder wasn't burning from the Chimera's poison anymore. The water felt cool, but not as damp as it usually did. An old cigarette lighter floated by as Harry got to his feet in the thick mud.

Cautiously Harry spoke to Poseidon, whom he guessed was responsible for his survival. "Thank you, sir."

A huge catfish swam by, but there was no other response. Everything looked a murky brown into the dim underwater light. Harry was well aware he'd been lucky with the Chimera, though right now he was mad that apparently Zeus was trying to kill him too. From above came a rhythmic sound.

Harry managed to swim a few yards forward to retrieve Riptide, sticking out of the mud hilt first. He supposed it was part of Percy's powers that he was able to swim at all, since the Dursleys hadn't given him swimming lessons. He yanked it out of the mud. Feeling a prickling on the back of his neck, Harry turned around.

Out of the gloom came a woman, floating ghost-like in the water and transparent. She had long billowing hair and teal eyes. Warily Harry inquired, "Who are you?"

He blinked at how different he sounded underwater- older, stronger, wiser.

"_I am a messenger. Poseidon would have you go to the beach in Santa Monica. Before you descend into the Underworld, you must go to Santa Monica. Please, Harry, I cannot stay long. The river here is too foul for my presence."_

Harry looked around at the murky and garbage filled river. "Good point."

"_I cannot stay. You must go to Santa Monica!"_ insisted the woman, reaching out to Harry. He could almost feel her touch his cheek. _"And do not trust the gifts, Harry…"_

"Um, all right," went Harry uncertainly. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but only faded away into nothingness. With a push he broke the surface of the river and swam to the shore, Riptide in hand. Time to face whatever had happened on the Gateway Arch in his absence.

"Thanks, Poseidon," Harry muttered gratefully as he pulled himself onto the sidewalk bordering the river. At least one god wasn't trying to kill him- in fact, he was trying to help him despite not really being his son.

Nearby was a McDonald's, two men who looked like brothers eating fast food and watching the show on a riverside bench. One had longer hair and a bigger nose than the other. Every emergency vehicle in St. Louis had gathered around the Arch, including helicopters. A mass of onlookers closer to the Arch were marveling at the sight.

Nearby was a news lady talking into a camera: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get to some of the survivors, to question them about eyewitness reports of someone falling from the Arch."

Harry's first thought was relief at there being survivors at all. His second was terror that he was going to be in so much trouble. He looked around, panicked. How was he going to find Annabeth and Clarisse?

The man with shorter hair walked up to him, tossing his trash into a trash can. "You need help, kid?"

"I got separated from my friends in the chaos," Harry admitted honestly. "I think they're back at the Arch…"

"Oh boy," sighed the man. "Come on, Noah, we got to do our good deed of the week."

"But we need to grab our stuff and head back to the desert, Miles," pointed out the big-nosed guy, Noah, as he slurped the last of his soda. "Dad and Mom think we'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"Noah, now," he told him. Rolling his eyes, Noah tossed away his own trash and joined the two. Together the trio headed through the crowds towards the police perimeter. Some police officers were carrying out a stone statue Harry recognized as Echidna. He blanched.

"What even is that?" wondered Noah, getting out a Gameboy. Miles gave him a look, and Noah put the Gameboy away.

"What do your friends look like…?" Miles asked.

"Um, Annabeth has curly blonde hair and Clarisse has stringy brown hair. They're about my age," Harry replied, going on tip-toe to look for them.

"Gangway!" shouted a cop, and they got out of the way. After the stone Echidna came the mother of the family from the observation deck, rambling.

"And then there was this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua-"

Harry turned away from her, nervous that she might recognize him. The paramedic told her, "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in…"

"I'm not crazy! The boy and the giant dog jumped out the hole, and then two girls showed up and told us not to look and then they were gone and the dog's owner was stone!"

"I miss all the cool stuff," grumbled Noah. Miles gave him a long-suffering look. "You are insane."

"Yep!" Noah grinned brightly. Harry moved off to scan the crowd for his friends, but he could still hear the two talking.

"Noah- that woman mentioned a boy and two girls causing this mess- what if this kid's the boy?"

"Nah," he scoffed. "I mean, no way the boy survived that fall. It's like four hundred feet!"

"I guess you're right," conceded Miles, but Harry's heart was still pounding.

"There you are, Hairball!" shouted Clarisse, forcing her way to him and slugging him in the arm. Annabeth came behind her, clearly relieved.

"I don't know what we would have done if Clarisse hadn't brought along Medusa's head…"

Clarisse smirked. "So, the dog lady was Echidna, huh? What was the dog?"

"The Chimera," Harry told her in a whisper. "Listen- I need to tell these two guys that I found you two and we can get back to the train."

"So you found your friends?" asked Miles, approaching the three demigods.

"Yes, sir. Thanks for you and Noah helping."

"Uh-huh," went Miles, still looking like he was helping against his better judgment. "Well, Noah and I need to catch the train…"

"Us too," agreed Annabeth curtly, gripping Harry's shoulder. "Thanks for helping him find us. Goodbye."

Unfortunately a live newscast from the storefront a TV store had found footage of both the Arch's security camera and from the bus accident in New Jersey. But they managed to get safely back to the Amtrak station and boarded the train a few minutes before it pulled out to Denver. As the St. Louis skyline faded into darkness, they let out sighs of relief just a bit too early.

Miles and Noah entered their car, and when he saw them Miles demanded, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't arrest you all."

"We're not in Arizona. I'm pretty sure you can't arrest people outside of Arizona. And did you even bring cuffs?" asked Noah. Miles gave him a look.

Clarisse asked, "Anybody know how to manipulate the Mist?"

"I subconsciously did it with Grover, but I don't think I could it consciously," Harry admitted. Annabeth rubbed her face with her hands.

"Wait, the Mist?" asked Miles, looking very aggravated. Noah commented, "Sounds like a bad movie."

Miles raised his eyebrows. "Still waiting for a reason not to contact the police."

"I told you- I saw a _beeping_ Chimera and a boy fall from the sky and the Chimera turn into dust when it hit the river," Noah grumbled.

Miles gave him a long look before apologizing, "My little brother plays way too many video games."

"Well, actually, since that's what happened…" trailed off Clarisse.

Miles commented, "You're joking."

"Nope," went Clarisse smugly.

"Some kid named Percy Jackson is wanted for questioning about the bus incident and the Arch incident," Noah told them. Harry asked, "Would it help at all if I'm just in Percy's body opposed to being Percy?"

Miles turned to his little brother. "Oh, great. A nutcase."

"No, we're demigods," confessed Annabeth, putting on her baseball cap where they could see her disappear.

"I want one," Noah smiled widely, clearly thinking of ways to abuse being invisible. Miles' shoulders slumped. "Okay, could someone please explain what the _beep_ is going on here?"

"All right," began Annabeth, pulling off her baseball cap. Harry's stomach opted to rumble just then.

"Can we eat and talk? Fighting a Chimera and diving into the Mississippi made me hungry…"

Noah sniffed in their direction and made a face. "Yeah, but first you guys need to take baths in our place. You guys stink."

"Noah!"

"What? It's the truth," Noah argued. He pointed at his large nose. "Smells are hard to miss with this nose."

So the three bathed in the Antwilers' bathroom before heading over to the dining car, their hair still wet. Miles kept muttering about helping 'known fugitives' but Noah just kept ignoring him.

As they ate, Annabeth, Clarisse, and Harry took turns explaining. Noah's green eyes were very wide by the end of their explanation, but Miles was a tougher sell.

Harry pointed at his cup of cola, making it rise up into an orb in front of him. "See?"

"That is SO COOL!" went Noah in an excited tone. "I wish I was a demigod…"

"I don't; you cause enough chaos as a mortal," Miles joked wryly, making Noah beam proudly. As the cola lowered itself back into his cup Miles sighed, "So you're the good guys… okay. You guys can crash on the floor of our car. We were visiting our home town. But we switch trains at Denver."

"We're getting off in Denver," assured Annabeth, eying the growing storm outside. Curiously Noah asked, "So, what exactly is your quest?"

The three exchanged nervous looks. They had so far avoided going into detail about their quest's specifics. Annabeth inhaled. "Someone stole Zeus' master bolt. He thinks it was Poseidon and Percy, but Chiron thinks it was the god of the dead."

"Whoa," went both Antwilers, suitably impressed. Clarisse added, "If the bolt isn't returned by the solstice, well… there'll be a war between Zeus and Poseidon, the other gods taking sides. Nature will be at war with itself, and there's a chance Western Civilization will collapse."

There was pause. Then Noah sipped his Mountain Dew, commenting, "Well, I guess I can always move to Japan… they make most of the really good video games. Though they also make a lot of the _beep-y_ ones too."

Miles sighed. "Okay, this night never happened- understand?"

"What?" Noah screeched surprisingly high. Miles insisted, "This didn't happen!"

"… If this didn't happen, then you must help me make a MST3K like robot," Noah ordered his big brother. "Or at least help me get the supplies."

"Fine," Miles sank his head into his arms. "Gods are real, magic is real, and the world might end in about a week- and you're trying to blackmail me into helping you make something you'll end up never using?"

"Hey! It'll be a _beeping_ robot! I'll end up using it," Noah replied dryly. "For something. If the world doesn't end, anyway."


	15. Chapter 15: A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in here (except maybe the plot bunny). Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen: A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers<strong>

After a grateful thank you to the Antwiler brothers, the trio got out at Denver, Colorado. It was June 14th, and they had a week left to find and return the stolen lightning bolt. Looking around, Annabeth said, "Let's try to contact Chiron. He needs to know about Harry's talk with the river spirit. Harry can't ignore a message from his father."

"Got that right," agreed Clarisse. Confused, Harry asked, "Couldn't we have used Miles or Noah's phone then?"

"We can't use phones, Hairball. It sends a flare up to monsters where we are, remember?" Clarisse told him briskly as the trio strolled through downtown Denver.

"Then how can we contact Chiron?" Harry wondered, eying the Rocky Mountains curiously. He wondered what the view would be like from up there. Amazing, probably. Finally Annabeth led them towards an empty do-it-yourself car wash, going to the farthest stall from the street. She and Clarisse seemed wary- probably looking out for more monsters.

Harry didn't understand why Clarisse grabbed the spray gun, and less when Annabeth used some change to get it working at 'fine mist'. The brawny girl pointed the nozzle into the air and water came out in a thick mist, creating a rainbow. Harry glanced down at a puddle. His marker recreation of his scar had been washed off in his bath, but he still had the marker in his backpack for when he got an opportunity to redo it.

Then Annabeth got out one of her drachmas and raised it over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."

The blonde tossed the drachma into the mist where it vanished in a golden shimmer.

"What?" squeaked Harry. But Annabeth just requested of the mist, "Half-Blood Hill."

For a split second nothing happened. Then in the mist a living image of the strawberry fields at camp appeared, as if they were standing on the Big House's front porch. Luke was standing there with his back to them, staring intensely out at the meadow with his sword in hand. Annabeth let out a tiny sound as she started to straighten her T-shirt and get any loose hairs out of her face.

"Luke!" snapped Clarisse, shaking her head at the other girl. With a start, Luke turned around and grinned at them. Harry was surprised he wasn't more surprised by this, but this experience felt almost normal somehow.

"Harry! And Annabeth! Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"

"No," Harry shook his head honestly. They'd been attacked by Furies, Medusa, and the Chimera- with more monsters sure to follow. And they were barely halfway across the country.

Annabeth gave him an annoyed look. "We're fine, Luke."

"Where's Chiron?" asked Clarisse briskly.

"Oh, hey, Clarisse. Didn't know you were here. Chiron's down at the cabins. There have been issues with the campers. Is everything good with you guys?"

"More or less," nodded Clarisse.

Annabeth asked, "Luke, what's the issue with the campers?"

"Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Things are getting pretty tense. Someone let it leak about the Zeus-Poseidon standoff. We're not sure who, but it's probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the cabins are starting to take sides, shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Athena is backing Zeus. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon. The other cabins are staying neutral so far."

"Sorry, Harry," apologized Annabeth quietly. Clarisse raised her eyebrows. "Interesting how Poseidon has more support than Zeus."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "We're already in Denver, and Poseidon sent a message that we need to go to Santa Monica. We'll go there first, and then down into the Underworld."

"It had to be Hades who took the master bolt," confirmed Luke. "He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. Remember, Clarisse, Annabeth? You guys were there too. We all saw him."

"But the gods can't take each other's magic items directly," Clarisse argued, still spraying out the water from the hose.

"That's true," acknowledged Luke. "But Hades has the helm of darkness. You'd have to be invisible to sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt."

Annabeth turned bright pink. For a minute no one dared to say anything.

"Hey, I didn't mean you. I've known you forever- you'd never do anything like that," Luke assured her sheepishly. Awkwardly he changed the subject. "Are the flying shoes doing you any good, Harry?"

"Yeah, I used them in the battle against Medusa," nodded Harry.  
>"Medusa?" Luke let out a whistle. "Nice one, you guys. Well, take care of yourselves in Denver. I'd better go tell Chiron that you guys are all right."<p>

"Thanks, Luke," smiled Annabeth. "Bye!"

"Bye!"

And Clarisse turned off the hose, hanging it up. "Yeah, we were running out of time. Now what?"

"So, what was that?" Harry dared to ask.  
>"Iris Messaging, or IM-ing. The goddess Iris carries messages for the gods but if she's not too busy and if you know how to ask she'll do the same for demigods."<p>

"I thought Hermes was the gods' message carrier?" questioned Harry before he could stop himself.

"He just handles the big stuff. Iris does the day-to-day stuff," Clarisse shrugged. "Come on, let's go find someplace to eat. I'm starving."

Harry's stomach let out a rumble. "That sounds good to me."

"We don't have that much money left," grumbled Annabeth, but she followed them down the street. They soon found a diner with chrome everywhere, and families eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas. Quietly the trio found an empty booth and saw down.

The waitress came over several minutes later, her eyebrows raised warily. "Well?"

"We want to order dinner," Clarisse informed her flatly.

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

With a sigh Annabeth started to root through her backpack for the money when the building shook from a huge rumble. A giant motorcycle pulled up to the curb: red headlight, flames painted on the gas tank, loaded shotgun holsters riveted to both sides, and the seat looked to be made from leathery human skin.

As the biker got off, Clarisse gulped audibly. The man was dressed in black and red, with a cruel expression on his face with wraparound red sunglasses. His hair was a black crew cut, and there were scars on every visible bit of him. Harry had a bad feeling he looked a bit familiar somehow as he strolled into the diner, a hot, dry wind accompanying him. All the people started to lift themselves out of their seats in a daze, but the biker waved his wand irritably and they all sat back down. Things got back to normal then, with the waitress repeating her question.

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

"It's on me," growled the biker, sitting down next to Clarisse, since Harry and Annabeth were sitting on the other side of the booth. Clarisse's eyes were starting to widen- in awe or fear, Harry couldn't tell. Looking up at the waitress he snapped, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. Curtly she turned around and marched back to the kitchen. The biker leaned back, clearly enjoying their discomfort. Giving Harry a wicked grin, he asked, "So you're the sap who traded places with old Seaweed's kid?"

Harry briefly looked into his sunglasses, since he couldn't see the biker's eyes. Anger and resentment bubbled up in him, making him wonder who this guy even was. Raising his chin, Harry responded, "Yes."

"Father," Clarisse bobbed her head respectfully. Harry looked between the two, realizing the resemblance. "You're Ares, god of war… and Clarisse's dad."

With a grin Ares removed his sunglasses. Instead of eyes he had empty sockets burning with fire. "That's right, punk."

"Why are you here?" Annabeth asked carefully, but her grey eyes were hard.

"Heard you were in town, and I got a little proposition for you."

"What?" asked Harry, but before Ares could reply the waitress returned with heaping trays of food- cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. The war god handed her several gold drachmas.

"But these aren't-" she began nervously, cutting herself off when Ares pulled out a huge knife and started to clean his fingernails.

"Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold coins.

"You can't just threaten people with a knife," frowned Harry.

Ares just chuckled. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk?"

"I have Riptide," Harry acknowledged. "But that's for defending myself from monsters. That waitress was a mortal. She wasn't going to hurt anyone."

"Harry," Clarisse warned him. Quietly she asked her father, "What can we do for you, Father?"

"Something I don't have the time to do myself. It's not much- I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little… date with my girlfriend when we got interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."

Harry kept his mouth shut, hating how Ares' power was influencing his anger, increasing it.

"Will it interfere with our current quest?" Annabeth frowned. "We are on a deadline."

"Hey, if you guys get my shield back for me, I'll give you a ride out west."

The three exchanged a look. Finally Harry sighed, "We'll do it."

Ares relaxed. "Good. The water park is a mile west on Delancy, you can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

Then in a blurred moment Ares was gone, leaving them alone with the food.

"This isn't good. Ares sought us out. This is not good," mumbled Annabeth.

"Shut up. When the master bolt first went missing, Zeus sent out our godly parents and the twins to look for it. And after that, Ares is the one who suggested Hades might have stolen it to Poseidon. He's trying to help," Clarisse defended her father.

Annabeth sipped at her shake. "Well, we certainly can't ignore his request. I suppose the solution to this problem involves brains. Ares only has strength, and that has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

"Yeah, and sometimes it's the other way around," growled Clarisse, her eyes flashing.

"He seemed kind of nervous about the water park, and relieved when we said we'd do it. Why?" wondered Harry.

"We're going to find out," shrugged Annabeth tiredly.

HPJHPJHPJHPJ

It was sunset by the time the trio reached the water park. Nearly half of the letters in the sign were smashed out, leaving behind 'WAT R AD', above the padlocked main gate. Inside were dry waterslides, tubes, pipes, and empty pools. Littered around were old tickets and advertisements, adding to the aura of creepiness.

Harry couldn't understand why gods would choose this as a place for a date night. His confusion must have been evident because Annabeth said, "The gods prefer out of the way places to avoid encountering mortals- these two gods especially."

Clarisse got out her electric spear and sliced open the padlock. "Ares and Aphrodite. God of war and goddess of love."

"No kidding?"

"Come on, Harry. That's two thousand year old gossip," Annabeth shook her head as they entered the shadowy, silent water park. There were such attractions as Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? Harry hoped most theme parks weren't like this, because this was sort of disappointing.

They passed by a souvenir shop. If they hadn't washed their clothes on the train, Harry would have considered taking some of the Waterland themed attire. Judging from her expression, Annabeth was leaning towards doing so anyway.

"Come on," snapped Clarisse. She seemed eager to prove herself to her father. They headed deeper into the water park, keeping their eyes out for the Tunnel of Love.

Harry thought of something. "I thought Aphrodite was married to the smithy god- Hephaestus?"

"That doesn't stop the gods," shrugged Annabeth. "Besides, Hephaestus was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus. So he isn't exactly handsome but he is very clever with his hands. Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent."

"Does he know?" Harry asked in bafflement.

"Yep," went Clarisse irritably. "He even caught them in a golden net once. Then he invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. He still tries to embarrass them, and that's why they met in out of the way places like here."

"Like there in particular," Annabeth pointed straight ahead at a ride titled "Thrill Ride O' Love: This Is Not Your Parents' Tunnel Of Love". It was an empty bowl-shaped pool about fifty yards across with a dozen bronze statues of Cupid perched on the rim with their wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from them was a tunnel's opening for water when the ride was open. Down at the bottom of the pool was a two-seater boat in pink and white with a canopy and hearts painted everywhere. In the left seat was a polished circle of bronze that shone in the twilight's glow that must be Ares' shield.

"This is too easy," frowned Clarisse, getting her electric spear back out. "Something is up."

Annabeth traced a pattern on the base of the nearest Cupid statue. "There's a Greek letter carved here. Eta. I wonder…"

"I'm going down there. You two stay up here in case any monsters attack. I'm the one with the flying shoes," Harry told the two girls. Clarisse shrugged, "Fine by me. I don't want to go down here. It's too girly."

"I'm not going on a Tunnel of Love ride," agreed Annabeth.

Confused by the girls' reactions, Harry just slid down the side of the pool. His footsteps echoing, Harry walked over to the boat. Looking around, he saw mirrors ringed the rim of the pool that focused on the center of the pool. The shield was propped on one seat and on the other was a lady's silk scarf. The scarf glowed pink and gave off a memorizing scent. Pinching his nose shut, Harry used his free hand to pick up the shield.

But when he did so, he broke a metal filament that had been connecting the shield to the boat's dashboard. It was so fine that it was nearly invisible. And that's when Harry saw the same Greek letter Annabeth had been tracing up on the Cupid's statues.

"It's a trap!" shouted Harry, seconds too late as noise erupted all around him. The Cupid statues shot their arrows across the rim of the pool, sleek cables trailing from the arrows. They anchored where they landed, and the cables started to weave together into a net.

"Hairball!" yelled Clarisse from above. Annabeth told him, "Harry, get out now!"

"_Maia_!" Harry yelped, his sneakers sprouting wings. He flew up, shield in hand, but the net tried to wrap around his hands so he flew back down as the Cupids' heads popped open to reveal video cameras. On the loudspeaker came a booming voice.

"Live to Olympus in one minute… fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight seconds…"

Down from the rim came tiny metallic spiders, making Annabeth scream. They were coming towards Harry, and he doubted a demigod could handle a trap meant for gods. Harry got into the boat, trying to ignore the scarf's scent. He had the powers of Poseidon's son, and this was a water ride.

"Get the switch on! I need water!" yelled Harry, planting his legs onto the boat's floor. Clarisse dashed over and started pressing buttons but nothing happened.

"Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…"

Harry closed his eyes and remembered the power of water, trying to bring the ocean's power to Denver.

"Five, four-"

Water exploded from the pipes, flooding the pool and sweeping away the spiders.

"Zero!"

Spotlights turned on focusing on the boat. He was live on Mount Olympus.

Harry gripped the boat's poles as the water hit the boat, sending him swaying but he managed to stay upright as the boat swirled around in a whirlpool. The short-circuiting spiders swirled around, some of them breaking as they struck the pool's edges. Breathing heavily, Harry focused on keeping control of the boat. He got it to go down the tunnel before it struck the golden net, plunging Harry into darkness.

He bit back whoops as the boat took forty-five degree turns and curls. Far too soon he was back into the now-night air, wind whistling in his hair. The boat was barreling straight towards the exit. If the ride was working the boat would go down a ramp between the Gates of Love and splash down in the exit pool. But the Gates of Love were chained, with two boats as extra blockage piled up at the gates' base.

"_Maia_!" yelled Harry and he dove to the side, shield in hand. He tumbled head over heels onto the concrete, scraping his knees and elbows. Getting to his feet, Harry realized the spotlights were still on him. Turning around, he waved awkwardly to the cameras as the wings retreated into his sneakers.

Clarisse and Annabeth hurried over to him. Annabeth shuddered. "Spiders, I hate spiders…"

"Not half bad, Hairball. Come on, let's get this shield back to my dad."

"Right," agreed Harry, giving the shield to the other girl.

"Do you think Ares knew this would happen?" Annabeth asked quietly. Clarisse frowned, "I don't know. You can ask him."

"I will," Annabeth promised with an edge to her voice.


	16. Chapter 16: We Take a Zebra to Vegas

Disclaimer: I don't own either black-haired dude or the worlds they live in. And remember to check out its counterpart: Percy Jackson and the Sorcerer's Stone.

Yeah, the second 'major' post-Harry change shows up. Using Noah as padding doesn't count. The first was Clarisse coming along on the quest instead of Grover.

Also… try to answer the "nightmare" quiz's questions without Googling anything. :D

Happy Leap Day! 

Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen: We Take a Zebra to Vegas<strong>

In the diner parking lot, Ares was waiting for them next to his motorcycle. Bemused, he greeted them with, "Well, well. You didn't get yourselves killed."

Harry narrowed his eyes as Annabeth's theory was proven. "You _knew_ it was a trap."

With a careless grin Ares told him, "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Before Harry could reply Clarisse handed him the shield. "Here's your shield back, Father."

Ares spun it in the air like pizza dough, changing its form into a bulletproof vest before slinging it across his back. He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. The sign on the back said- **Kindness International: Humane Zoo Transport. Warning: Live Wild Animals.**

"See that truck over there? That's your ride. Takes you straight to LA, with one stop in Vegas."

Harry had heard of Las Vegas once or twice, but had never ever dreamed he'd go there. To even get a glimpse of the legendary sinkhole of vice would be awesome. Annabeth was less impressed.

"You're kidding."

With a snap of his fingers Ares caused the back door of the truck to unlatch. "It's a free ride west, punk-ette. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He got a blue nylon backpack off the bike's handlebars and tossed it to Harry. Peeking inside, Harry saw it held fresh camp uniforms for all of them, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of strange cookies called Double Stuf Oreos. Harry had a bad feeling about this, but didn't feel like looking a gift horse in the mouth when said horse could vaporize him on the spot.

"Thank you, Father," Clarisse bobbed her head respectfully. "We won't let you down."

"Whatever, punks," Ares shrugged.

Glancing at the diner, Harry's stomach flip-flopped. The diner was nearly empty now, and the waitress was watching them interact nervously. She dragged over the fry cook to see, telling him something. He nodded before holding up a small camera and snapping a picture of the scene. Harry really had a bad feeling now, and it definitely wasn't from being in Ares' vicinity.

"So… we'll be going now. Thank you, Ares," went Annabeth, shifting her weight anxiously. Quietly Harry acknowledged, "Thank you, Ares."

With a curt nod, Ares revved up his motorcycle and roared down the street. Harry stared after it, suddenly remembering something from his last night in his real life. But before he could speak, Annabeth yelped because the last two customers were paying, and the logos on the back of their uniforms matched the ones on the truck.

"We need to hurry," she told them before dashing across the street, Clarisse and Harry right behind her. Once in they closed the doors, leaving them in near total darkness.

HPJHPJHPJHPJ

The trailer smelled horrible. Clarisse got out her electric spear and Harry got out Riptide, and combined the weapons' light was enough to let them see a very sad sight. In a row of dirty metal cages were three miserable wild animals: a zebra with a mane matted with bubble gum, a starving white lion, and an antelope with a party balloon tied to a horn. Someone had given the lion a sack of turnips and the two hoofed beasts each a tray of hamburger meat.

"This is sickening. Grover would hate this," Annabeth got out, her grey eyes heartbroken.

Clarisse eyed the animals with pity. "I can't say I would blame him."

Then the truck's engine roared to life, the trailer shacking enough that the trio sat down hard. As soon as things settled down a bit Harry refilled the water bowls with a water jug while Annabeth traded foodstuffs for the animals. Clarisse used her spear to cut off the balloon from the antelope's horn and Annabeth used her knife to get most of the gum out of the zebra's mane. Then they huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sack, trying to ignore their surroundings.

Harry took a deep breath. "It's sort of silly, but I just remembered something from my last night in my real life. Or real world. Whatever. I had a dream about a flying motorcycle. Do you guys think it means anything?"

"Huh. So seeing Ares did help us out. Or you, at least," commented Annabeth.

Clarisse growled, "That's my father you're talking about, so watch it! How'd you like it if I trash talked your dad?"

"I'd join it," Annabeth said flatly. "There's a reason I ran away so young, La Rue."

"La Rue?" asked Harry.

"Shut up, Hairball. It's none of your business."

"Sorry," mumbled Harry. He drew his knees up to his chest.

More kindly Annabeth said, "Well, maybe it was just a dream, or maybe it was symbolic of your journey here. Motorcycles are a type of transportation, after all."

"Harry got here via flying motorcycle?" Clarisse tried to understand in disbelief. Annabeth rolled her eyes. "I said it was symbolic, not literal! There is no such thing as a flying motorcycle- unless your dad's can fly?"

"Nah, but Apollo's chariot does, though he prefers in car mode nowadays," Clarisse replied.

"A flying car?" Harry grinned. "That sounds cool."

"It is," agreed Clarisse. "Almost as cool as my dad's bike."

Annabeth yawned, handing them each a pair of cookies. "Eat up. Tomorrow is the fifteenth, so we have six days left until the solstice."

"Great," Clarisse sighed, stretching out her legs. "I bet people will be telling stories about this quest for decades if we succeed. That'd be pretty sweet."

"Yeah, it would," agreed Harry, nibbling on an Oreo.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Annabeth asked, "Want me to tell you guys' Thalia's story?"

"Who's Thalia?" puzzled Harry, trying to remember where he had heard that name before. Clarisse nodded, saying as she fingered her camp necklace, "Yeah. She was a tough cookie from what I heard."

"Wait- the same Thalia you told me about at camp?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but I didn't tell you the whole story," Annabeth said, her face hard to read in the darkness. "See, Luke and I were the two demigods with her."

"Truly?"

"Truly," exhaled Annabeth sadly. "I ran away from home when I was seven. Athena watched over me, guided me to Luke and Thalia, who were older and able to protect and train me. Grover found us a few weeks later. Recognizing Thalia as a daughter of Zeus he wanted to get her to camp fast before Hades sent any serious monsters after her."

"Like the Furies, Medusa, and the Chimera?" Harry asked wryly.

"Exactly," Annabeth had to smile at that. "Anyway, Thalia refused to leave me and Luke behind so the four of us went together to camp from northern Virginia. But a lot of monsters came after us, and by the time the camp was in sight all three Furies were after us along with a horde of hellhounds. Tired of being hunted, Thalia made her last stand and turned into a pine tree while Grover got me and Luke safely past the camp's boundary. Ever since the camp's boundaries have been stronger than ever, thanks to her guardianship."

"Wow," whispered Harry.

More practically Clarisse commented, "Crazy how Grover of all satyrs found a daughter of Zeus and a son of Poseidon. Next he'll find a child of Hades, I bet."

"That would mean all three of the Big Three broke the oath," retorted Annabeth. "Insanity."

"Just saying, I think the Council is being stupider than usual by ignoring Grover. Just because you dislike someone or their way of doing things doesn't mean you should get cocky. That's when you die," Clarisse replied with a yawn.

Harry felt that in the darkness he could ask away with impunity. "What's with the camp necklaces? You all wear one."

"Every August the cabin counselors pick out the most important event of the summer, and they paint it on that year's beads. Each camper gets a bead. I've got Thalia's pine tree, a Greek trireme on fire, a centaur in a prom dress-"

"That summer was sheer chaos, and it really didn't help that was the Stoll brothers' first summer there," laughed Clarisse.

Knowing he was edging into dangerous territory Harry asked, "Why don't you guys live with your mortal parents?"

"Mom works a lot and I'm pretty powerful for a daughter of Ares- that's part of why I'm the counselor for the Ares cabin. Have been for most of my time here, and I fend off challengers at least once a week."

"No kidding?" went Annabeth before chuckling. "Not sure why I'm surprised by that. You guys are the children of Ares."

"It's because you're a bird brain," dead panned Clarisse. "Anyhow, we're better off separated. We write to one another every week though. If I live and the world doesn't end, I might visit her for a bit this fall, you know?"

"What about you, Annabeth?"

Annabeth touched the college ring on her camp necklace. Coldly she informed Harry, "I ran away at the age of seven. That tells you everything you need to know about my home life."

Very quietly Harry said, "I think you should give him a second chance. I know I'd give nearly anything to have my parents back."

"Give it up, Hairball. I already tried on the train and failed. Athena's kids all have thick skulls- guess they don't want anybody popping out of _their_ heads."

Harry grinned at that. He told the two girls good night and fell asleep. Unfortunately, he had a nightmare almost as soon as he did so.

He was in a classroom, taking a quiz. Worryingly he was chained to the desk. But none of the seven questions made any sense: Why is Nicholas Flamel famous? Spiders flee before what creature? How is a Boggart dispelled? What does gillyweed give to its eater? Before being able to see Thestrals what must one witness? Felix Felicis induces what? Who are the founders of Hogwarts?

So Harry was relieved when a girl's voice informed him, "Sorry, but finding out those answers doesn't matter for you anymore."

Looking over he saw a girl with electric blue eyes chained to another desk. They were the only kids in the classroom. She looked to be Percy's age with messy black hair, dark eyeliner, fair skin with freckles, and dressed in all black with combat boots.

"Anyway, somebody has to get us out of here," she snapped, struggling with the chains. Harry realized that he needed and wanted to go confront whatever was in that cavern. Closing his eyes, Harry felt himself fall down, down, down until he was back in the dark cavern. Spirits of the dead milled around, and the dark voice was speaking- but not to Harry this time.

"_And he suspects nothing?"_

A second voice, one Harry couldn't quite place, spoke. _"Nothing, my lord. He is as ignorant as the rest."_

Harry squinted, but could see no one else in the cavern closer to the pit's mouth where the dark voice came from.

"_Deception upon deception,"_ mused the voice contentedly. _"Excellent."_

"_Truly, my lord,"_ replied the voice subserviently, _"you are well-named the Crooked One. But was it truly needed? I could have brought you what I stole directly-"_

The voice cut him off scornfully. _"You? You have already shown your limits. You would have failed me completely had I not intervened."_

"_But-"_

"_Peace, little one. Our six months have brought us much. Zeus's anger has grown while Poseidon was forced to play his most desperate card, which was a greater gamble than even I could have expected. But that just makes him easier to use against the gods. Soon you shall have the reward you wish, and your revenge. As soon as both items are delivered into my hands… but wait."_

Harry's heart raced as he realized the voice had caught wind of his presence.

"_He is here."_

Tersely the second voice asked, _"What? You summoned him, my lord?"_

The voice's power froze Harry where he stood despite his struggles.

"_No. Blast Poseidon's influence and his own power- he is too changeable and unpredictable. The boy brought himself hither."_

"_Impossible!"_ cried out the second voice.

"_For someone as weak as you, yes," _growled the voice. Refocusing on Harry, it told him coldly,_ "So… you wish to dream of your quest, youngling? Then I will oblige you."_

Harry's location changed in a blur of colors. He stood in a vast throne room with black walls and a bronze floor. A vacant throne made of human bones fused together stood at its head. Harry felt himself aging away to bones as grinning skeletons surrounded him. Mockingly they draped silk robes over him and crowned him with a poisonous laurel crown that burned his head.

Laughing the evil voice proclaimed, _"Hail, the conquering hero!"_

Harry woke up with a catch in his breath. That nightmare had been too vivid and confusing to be dismissed easily. But he had to put it in the back of his mind when a grim Clarisse whispered, "The truck's stopped. We got to hide in case they come in to check on the animals."

Annabeth was already gone, probably wearing her baseball cap. Harry and Clarisse ducked behind some feed sacks and hoped that the drivers wouldn't notice anything off. The trailer doors opened with a noisy creak, letting in sunlight and heat.

"Man!" one of the two truckers said as he climbed in. "I wish I hauled appliances."

He poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes. To the lion he asked if he was hot before tossing the rest of the water right into his face. The lion roared in indignation.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man snorted. Next he tossed the antelope a semi-squished Happy Meal bag. Last he smirked at the zebra, saying, "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!"

Wide-eyed in fear the zebra looked over at Harry, meeting his eyes. There was no sound but the zebra told Harry clearly: _"Free me, lord. Please."_

"Uh, Clarisse? The zebra is talking to me," Harry whispered.

"Poseidon did create the horse- it'd make sense you could communicate with equines," Annabeth's disembodied voice came from nearby. With a swagger the trucker left a few minutes later. Reappearing Annabeth snarled, "This can't possibly be legal. If Grover was here, he'd free them."

"Bad idea- we need to get to Los Angeles," retorted Clarisse tightly.

"_They're animal smugglers!"_ protested the zebra.

Harry bit his lower lip before coming to a decision. "Doing the right thing is never the easy thing."

"Hairball!" groaned Clarisse as Harry leapt towards the cages, getting out Riptide. He slashed the padlocks off the cages, letting the animals bust themselves out. The zebra bowed, telepathically thanking him, before bounding off. The antelope and the lion left the trailer right behind the zebra. On the other side of the doors was a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. They were in Las Vegas. The two truckers dashed after the three animals, shouting. A few policemen joined in the chase.

Clarisse's face lit up. "I bet they left the key in the ignition! Let's hijack this truck!"

"Uh…" went Annabeth and Harry, blindsided. With an eye roll Clarisse got out, muttering, "Wimps."

"Do you even know how to drive?" Annabeth demanded of Clarisse as they followed, shutting the trailer door behind them. As she opened the driver's door Clarisse shrugged.

"Nah, but mortals do it all the time. It can't be that hard."

"_Di immortales_," muttered Annabeth. Out loud she said, "Come on, Harry. Let's go in on the other side."

"All right," went Harry, following her. "So we drive west until we hit Santa Monica, right?"

"Right, but it's the Santa Monica Pier in Los Angeles," nodded Annabeth. Under her breath she added, "If we don't get arrested."

Adjusting Ares' backpack, Harry didn't doubt that this was probably the most insane and dangerous week of his life. But it was also the most fun he had ever had. Which was kind of sad, once Harry thought about it.


	17. Chapter 17: We Shop for Water Beds

Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter or Percy Jackson. Or any pop culture stuff that comes up.

Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen: We Shop for Water Beds<strong>

Clarisse drove like crazy. Unlike what his Uncle Vernon would think in his place, Harry suspected it had more to do with her personality and age opposed to her gender. None of this made him any more comfortable about being in a car. The air grew even warmer as the sun went past its zenith, the radio blaring on a pop music station. But when a song that seemed to heavily feature the word 'outrageous' came on, Annabeth reached over and turned off the radio.

"Good call," agreed Clarisse, spitting out the open window. "Britney Spears is such a girly girl…"

"Who?"

"Harry, how can you not know who Britney Spears is?" asked Annabeth, shaking her head.

"Um, I'm a British kid from 1991," Harry pointed out.

"I keep forgetting you're British, what with the lack of an accent and all," commented Clarisse.

"Blame Percy's vocal cords," Harry replied, leaning back. He was kind of squished between the two girls, but at least there didn't seem to be any sign of monsters. "He's American so I speak with an American accent. I bet he's speaking with a British accent in my body."

Annabeth apparently decided now would be a great time to quiz him on what parts of modern American pop culture he was and was not aware about.

"So, Harry, know what Pokémon are?"

"No…"

"Doctor Who?"

"Yes. But it was canceled years ago."

"It got a new season this year. How about the Backstreet Boys?"

"The what?"

"Lucky," grumbled Clarisse. "Trust me, you're better off not knowing."

"Clarisse has a point. Okay, what about the Playstation?"

"Is that another theme park?"

"… No. Um, who's President of the US?"

"Bush," beamed Harry, sure he had gotten this one right. "George H. W. Bush."

"Nope, now it's his son George W. Bush, and you missed Clinton in between them," Annabeth told him, releasing her hair from its ponytail. "Do you know what _The Lion King_ is?"

"No…"

"_Aladdin_?"

"A story from 1001 Nights," Harry guessed.

"Well, that too, but nowadays it's best known as a Disney film. How about _Beauty and the Beast_?"

"My relatives thought it was silly so they didn't go see it. But I know what it is," Harry told her.

"Mulan?"

"Uh… would it be racist to guess it's something involving Asia?"

Annabeth face-palmed.

"_Let's get down to business_," Clarisse sang. "_To defeat the Huns_!"

"Really, Clarisse? Really?"

"Shut up, bird brain. It's my favorite movie."

"Of course it is," Annabeth sighed sarcastically.

"Hey, like you're not a huge fan of _Beauty and the Beast_ because the girl is smart," Clarisse shot back.

Harry tentatively asked, "Is there any Disney movie you two agree on?"

In tandem the girls agreed, "Disney's version of _Heracles_ stank."

"Except for that one song," Annabeth amended. Clarisse acknowledged, "If you mean that song Meg sang, yeah, it kicked butt."

Annabeth nodded in agreement.

"After this is over apparently we need to have a Disney film marathon," commented Harry. "I never got to watch any Disney films since they featured the m-word a lot."

"The m-word?" giggled Annabeth.

"Magic," Harry elaborated. "They really hate anything abnormal."

"Normalcy is relative," snorted Clarisse, keeping her foot on the gas pedal. Eying one of the dials she commented, "We might need to stop to refuel at some point."

"Right," agreed Annabeth.

Harry settled down with Ares' backpack on his lap, feeling oddly calm that the end of their quest was in sight. Then he remembered his nightmare. "Girls?"

"Yep?" went Clarisse, popping the 'p'.

"I had a nightmare in the trailer. It started out with me trying to take a quiz but then I went back to the cavern with the talking pit-"

"Hold on- went back?" questioned Annabeth.

"Never mind that, the talking pit organized the theft of the lightning bolt. He was discussing it with his servant who did it for him. Does that sound like Hades?" asked Harry, truly curious. He wasn't sure how to battle a talking pit.

"Nah, he usually shows up on a throne of bones."

"Well, the pit showed me that, but the throne was empty. And skeletons put acidic laurels on my head. I hate dreams."  
>"Better get used to them," shrugged Clarisse. "They're a mark of being a demigod- having nightmares that foretell events on your quest."<p>

"Great."

Annabeth was very quiet, her eyes wide. Noticing, Clarisse snapped, "Spit it out, bird brain."

"It's just… did the servant call the 'pit' anything?"

"Um, yeah. But I can't remember what exactly," apologized Harry. Annabeth looked uneasy. "This might be more complicated than I suspected."

"The world might end. How is that not complicated?" demanded Clarisse, taking her eyes off the road to glare at the other girl.

"Whatever," sighed Annabeth, turning away to press her cheek against the passenger side window. Harry opted to turn the radio back on.

It was past twilight by the time they reached Los Angeles, and the three were tired. But the radio had posted a bulletin about the trailer's theft, so they dumped the truck and went on foot through the dark, maze-like streets of the City of Angels.

Wan, Annabeth divulged her concerns. "I'm not so sure Hades stole the bolt. Someone stole the bolt for his or her master-"

"His. Both voices were male," Harry inserted.

"All right then. Someone stole Zeus' symbol of power from Olympus, but something went wrong. He had to hide it or lost it at some point. He failed to bring it to his master. But it could still be Hades- that's why the Furies were asking for 'it'. They wanted the bolt."

"But why would I go to the Underworld if I wasn't even in this world when the theft occurred?"

"To blackmail some god to get you back home?" tried Clarisse. "And bird brain- if the pit thing isn't Hades, who is it?"

Stubbornly Annabeth said, "Never mind. It has to be Hades. Because if the thief's master isn't Hades… it needs to be Hades."

"We'll get answers one way or the other in the Underworld," Clarisse grumbled. "Where are we even going?"

"The Santa Monica Pier," Annabeth responded shortly. "Harry needs to talk to Poseidon."

If any groups of teens started to head towards them, Clarisse would just snarl and flip them off, making them back off. Annabeth muttered more than once that they should have brought a weapon that worked against mortals, if they were going to go into gang territory.

When one group looked like they were going to 'bother' them anyway, they ducked into an open store named **Crusty's Water Bed Palace**. They hid behind a water bed as the gang kids ran by, looking for them.

"I wouldn't have minded a fist fight," Clarisse muttered. Annabeth noted, "They have knives on them, Clarisse."

Clarisse got out a switch blade from her right combat boot. "You were saying?"

"Put that back," she hissed.

It was a good thing too because someone approached them less than a minute later. He was tall and hairless with leathery skin and a reptilian smile, dressed in a suit Uncle Vernon would have hated- silk paisley shirt, velvet jacket, silver chains around his neck, and crisp pants. With a yellowy smile he greeted them. "I'm Crusty."

"Sorry to barge in," apologized Annabeth as they stood up. "We were, ah, just looking."

"You were hiding from those no-good kids," Crusty translated darkly. "They hang around every night. But I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

Before they could find a way to politely refuse he had grasped Harry's shoulder and steered him deeper into the showroom, leaving Annabeth and Clarisse to follow. There were a wide variety of water beds available, but Harry was more concerned with how tight Crusty's grip was on his shoulder. Crusty stopped in front of a bed with black satin sheets with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard with a vibrating mattress. Both girls raised their eyebrows and Harry felt slightly seasick just looking at it.

"This is my most popular model," Crusty bragged, gesturing towards it. "Million-hand massage. Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"But earlier you said-" frowned Annabeth, but then with a shrug she edged onto the bed. After a few seconds she started bouncing around.

"Hm," went Crusty, rubbing his chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" asked Clarisse warily. Looking over at her and gesturing to a second water bed at the same time Crusty stated, "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

"That?" asked Clarisse, pointing over at the water bed Crusty had gestured to. It had a leopard-patterned comforter and lions carved into the frame. Crusty gave her an encouraging smile but Clarisse stood firm. So he pushed her onto it.

"Hey!" she commented as she struggled to get up.

Snapping his fingers, Crusty watched ropes spring from the sides of the beds and tied down the two girls. Then he turned towards Harry, clamping his hand around the back of his neck. "Almost, almost."

When Harry struggled to free himself Crusty told him, "Whoa, kid. Don't worry, I'll find you one in a second."

"I don't want a water bed!" protested Harry, still struggling. "Let my friends go!"

"Oh, I will. But I got to make them fit before I do that."

"What you mean?" Harry got out, watching his friends struggle against the ropes futilely.

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. I got to make them fit since I can't stand imperfect measurements. _Ergo_!"

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, the bottom ones wrapping around Annabeth and Clarisse's ankles and the top ones wrapping around their armpits. The ropes began to tighten, pulling them from both ends.

At Harry's expression of horrified shock, Crusty told him, "Don't worry. These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, eh?"

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, still struggling to free himself.

Crusty chuckled. "Legally, it's Procrustes. But who can pronounce that? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty', anybody can say that."

"Right," nodded Harry, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation. Then it hit him- he was surrounded by water beds. So ignoring Crusty's grip on his neck Harry closed his eyes and felt for the ocean, which was only a few miles away anyhow. Then he pulled, and the water gushed out of the bed and slammed into Procrustes, sending him into a wall. Getting out Riptide, Harry sliced the ropes tying down his friends.

"Let's get out of here!" shouted Harry as the water pooled on the floor. On the way out, Annabeth grabbed an advertisement for DOA Recording Studios as Crusty groaned and got to his feet.

Running, they got to the beach in less than an hour. Along the pier were carnival rides, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and a few stray surfers waiting for one more wave. As they walked down to the edge of the surf Clarisse demanded, "What now?"

"I guess I go underwater," Harry commented.

"That water is so polluted though," Annabeth made a face. "And full of toxic material."

"I need to talk to Poseidon though," insisted Harry. "Besides, I'm in Percy's body with his powers. I'll be fine. You two wait here and… un-stretch, I guess."

"Hah ha," snorted Clarisse as Harry shrugged off Ares' backpack before heading into the waves. After the first few yards he started swimming, still amazed he could breathe normally underwater. He drifted down to the bottom of the continental shelf, walking on the sand. Somehow he could still see the sand-dollar colonies on the sandbars and also the warm and cold currents. A mako shark came up and nuzzled him as if it was a dog. Carefully Harry patted it on the head but it just nudged him in the leg. So Harry grabbed its dorsal fin and it swam off, pulling him along into the darkness to the place where the continental shelf met the continental slope. He was eerily reminded of the pit from his nightmares. Something glimmered in the darkness, growing bigger and brighter as it approached him.

"Harry Potter," came a woman's voice as her form became clearer. The woman had flowing dark hair and intense teal eyes, garbed in a chiton of green silk. Flickering light surrounded her, and she rode a stallion-sized sea horse. Once she dismounted, the giant sea horse and mako shark started playing together in what looked like a friendly game of tag. Harry had a brief, bitter reflection on the less friendly games of tag he had 'played' with his cousin Dudley.

With a smile the woman told him, "You have come far for a mortal, Harry Potter, even if granted the form and power of a demigod. Well done."

Harry just blushed and shifted his weight. He commented, "You're the one who talked to me in the Mississippi."

"Yes, little one. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but my freshwater cousins, the naiads, helped to sustain my life force. Despite not serving in Poseidon's court, they do honor him. Poor Percy; it had been many years since the last demigod child was born of Poseidon. I hope he is doing well in your world."

"Me too," agreed Harry. "So you said Poseidon wanted me here. Where is he?"

"Poseidon stands at the brink of an unwanted war, and besides, the gods cannot show favoritism to their demigod children by helping them directly. But they can help indirectly. Thus I shall give you a warning and a gift."

"Thank you…" trailed off Harry.

Holding out her hand, three white pearls appeared in the Nereid's hand. "I know you journey to Hades' realm. Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great skill in music; Hercules, who had great strength; and Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

The Nereid inclined her head gracefully. "You have gifts you have only began to know, Harry, both from yourself and Percy. If you should survive to manhood, you may have to take up the burden the oracles predicted for Percy. But Poseidon would not have his son's true form die before then. Therefore take these pearls, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"Okay," agreed Harry, not sure what he was agreeing to.

"What will happen next will depend on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"That's the gift," Harry commented as he took the pearls from her. "May I hear the warning now?"

"Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. If he can, he will trick you and make you mistrust your own judgment. Once in his realm, he will never willingly let you go. Keep faith and good luck, Harry Potter."

The Nereid summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void. Harry watched as she swam away into a speck of glowing green, and then even that was gone. Taking a deep breath Harry swam upwards. Once back on the beach, his clothes were almost instantly dry. He recounted his conservation with the Nereid to Annabeth and Clarisse as they searched for a place to sleep for the night.

With a grimace Annabeth said, "No gift comes without a price. That expression translated pretty well from Greek to English."

"At the Mississippi she warned me about the gifts, but I kind of doubt she meant the gifts she gave me," Harry pointed out wryly.

"Burn," snorted Clarisse. "So, what's this DOA Recording Studios?"

"Probably the entrance to the Underworld," shrugged Annabeth, eying the flyer. "We'll go there in the morning to make sure. But odds are, we'll be in the Underworld by noon tomorrow."

Finally they found a secluded, non-occupied sand dune and laid out to sleep after finishing off the Oreos. Harry took the first shift, promising to wake up Clarisse shortly after midnight and in turn Clarisse would wake up Annabeth around four in the morning. Then once the sun was up, they would find DOA Recording Studios- Dead On Arrival.


	18. Chapter 18: Annabeth & Obedience School

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.

Question: do you guys want the 'HPJHPJHPJ' bits in the center or to the left?

Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Eighteen: Annabeth Does Obedience School<strong>

It started raining as they reentered the city the next morning. It was June 16th, and they had five days to get the master bolt and return it to Zeus. They went to a Burger King for breakfast, Harry going to the restroom while the girls got the food. While in there he redid the marker version of his lightning bolt scar on his forehead as a sort of war paint.

As they ate their breakfast, Annabeth outlined a plan for getting into DOA Recording Studios, which was the Underworld's cover to the mortal world according to the flyer. She admitted it was not the best plan, but she didn't have anything else. Harry and Clarisse couldn't come up anything better, either. As they finished up, Harry offered, "I'll throw away the trash. You guys use the bathroom; I don't think there are any in the Underworld."

"Yeah," snorted Clarisse, standing up. "Come on, bird brain. Let's prep for a showdown to remember."

Half an hour later they were on Valencia Boulevard, drenched as they stared up at the golden letters against the black marble stone: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS. Stenciled onto the glass doors were the warnings "No Solicitors. No Loitering. No Living."

"This is the place, all right," Annabeth commented. "Everybody know the plan?"

"Yes," nodded Harry and Clarisse. Clarisse commented, "Harry, better give us each a pearl in case we get split up."

"Good idea," agreed Harry, getting out two of the pearls from his jeans pocket. "Here you go."

They each took one and put in their pocket, looking concerned that these were their back-up plan. Inhaling, Annabeth told herself, "It'll be fine. We still have five days until the solstice, we can do this. We can do this."

"Or the world will end," Clarisse pointed out. "Not much middle ground- just the way I like it."

Together they walked into the DOA lobby. Soothing, soft music played on the speakers, the walls and carpet were steely grey, pointy cacti lurked in the corners, and black leather couches. The lobby was full of people on the couches, standing around, or waiting for the elevator. None of them moved or spoke, and if looked at closely they became transparent.

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck were standing up. He was starting to have a bad feeling about this place, though if it was the entrance of the Underworld it was warranted. Quietly he followed the two girls to the raised podium that was the security guard's desk. He had dark skin but clipped blonde hair, wearing shades and a silky fashionable suit. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag that said 'Charon'.

"You Charon?" demanded Clarisse.

The security guard leaned across the desk, his glasses only showing the demigods, with a coldly sweet smile. "Indeed I am."

"Sweetness," went Clarisse.

"Now what can I do for you three?" Inhaling deeply, he frowned. "You're not dead, are you three? You're demigods."

"Well, more or less," admitted Harry.

"We want to go to the Underworld," Annabeth told him. She dumped six drachmas onto his desk. "We're willing to pay heavily for the privilege."

Charon licked his lips hungrily. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in a long while…"

The three held their breath. Then Charon shook his head. "But you're alive so…"

Annabeth dumped another six drachmas onto the podium. "I did say we were willing to pay heavily."

"I don't know," Charon frowned.

The dead spirits got up and started pacing uneasily.

Harry dug a drachma out of his pocket and added it to the pile. "Please?"

"Please?" echoed Charon. He smirked. "Well, it has been a while since anyone has used that word in wanting to go to the Underworld…"

Clarisse added another thirteen drachmas to the pile. "Aw, come on. Just tell Hades we forced you to let us in."

Standing up, Charon scooped up the money. "The boat is almost full anyway. I might as well add you three and be off. Come along."

They stuck close to Charon as he pushed his way through the crowd of spirits, some of which tried to grab at them but he always pushed them away with a scornful "Freeloaders". He escorted them onto the crowded elevator, all the dead spirits holding a green pass. Charon pushed away two last spirits before announcing, "Right. No one get any ideas while I'm gone. And if anyone tries to dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understood?"

He shut the doors and put a key card into a slot. The elevator started to descend. Annabeth opened her mouth but Clarisse rammed her elbow into the other girl's ribs, earning herself a glare from Annabeth. Clarisse just glowered right back at her. Harry was starting to worry exactly how they were going to get back the master bolt from one of the eldest and most powerful Greek gods if they could barely get into the Underworld.

The elevator jerked forward, the air getting misty. The surrounding spirits' clothes changed into gray hooded robes, the elevator's floor swaying. Harry rubbed at his eyes. When he recovered, Charon's attire was a long dark robe and his 'eyes' were visible- dark holes full of death and despair.

"Well?" he asked when he noticed Harry looking.

"Nothing," went Harry, averting his eyes as the flesh on his face became transparent. The elevator had turned into a wooden barge, Charon poling across a dark, oily river that swirled with bones, dead fish, and garbage.

"The River Styx," marveled Annabeth in a whisper. "It's so…"

"Polluted," grumbled Charon, finishing her sentence. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across- hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true, and more. Irresponsible waste management if you ask me."

Clarisse huffed, eyeing the mist that curled off the water. Far overhead were cave formations. Craning his neck to look at them, Harry commented, "I never know what the difference is between a stalagmite and a stalactite."

"The easy way is that stalactite has a 'c' for ceiling and stalagmite has a 'g' for ground," a wan Annabeth replied promptly, watching the greenish glow of the far river shore. Harry knew he ought to be scared, but wasn't. Under her breath Clarisse was muttering a prayer to her father.

The far shore came into clearer view: craggy rocks and black sand stretched inland until hitting a high stone wall as far as they could see. From out of the green gloom came a triad of howls.

With a skeletal smile Charon commented, "Old Three-Face is hungry. Bad luck for you, demigods."

The boat slid onto the black sand, the dead beginning to disembark. Harry watched them: a woman holding a little girl's hand, an old man and woman hobbling along together, and a preteen boy. Staring out at the wall, Charon told them, "I'd wish you luck, but there isn't any down here. Farewell."

He counted the twenty-six drachmas into his pouch, and retook up his pole. He started to sing a George Michael song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

Harry led the way up a well-worn path, none of them quite believing that they had arrived in the Underworld alive.

HPJHPJHPJ

The entrance to the Underworld was far more complicated and active than Harry was expecting. There were three entrances under a single huge pitch black arch that read YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond them were tollbooths manned by ghouls in black robes. The dead had queued into three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY and one marked EZ DEATH. The latter was moving much more quickly than the other two.

Despite having increased in noise, the source of the howling was nowhere to be seen. Harry looked around anxiously. "Where's Cerberus?"

"Where are we supposed to go?" Clarisse wondered more practically.

Pointing at the EZ DEATH line Annabeth stated, "That one must go straight to the Asphodel Fields, no contest. They don't want to risk the court's judgment because it might go against them."

"There's a court down here?" gulped Harry, unaccountably uneasy.

"Yeah," nodded Annabeth. "Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench: King Midas, Thomas Jefferson, William Shakespeare. People like that. They look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward- the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on a special punishment in the, well, Fields of Punishment. But most people just lived, nothing special good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"It's the epitome of boring," Clarisse grumbled. Looking around she commented more hopefully, "Maybe the Kindly Ones will show up soon."

"Shush, we're in their territory now," Annabeth snapped, getting out her dagger. Following her lead Harry got out Riptide. Clarisse got out her electric spear as they approached the gates, the howling growing so loud it shook the ground. Suddenly, about fifty feet ahead, the green mist shimmered and a giant creature appeared where the path split into the three lanes. Before the Cerberus had blended into the black background due to being semitransparent, save for its eyes and teeth.

"Cerberus is bigger than I thought it would be," gulped Harry. It was built like a Rottweiler, the size of a house, and had three heads. The dead seemed oblivious to its presence. As they grew closer and closer, it became more solid. Harry asked, "Why am I starting to see him better?"

"I think… I think it's because we're getting closer to being dead," Annabeth reasoned.

"Cool," went Clarisse. But she paled with them when the dog's middle head shifted towards them, sniffing before growling.

"He can smell the living," muttered Clarisse. "And can't be killed. Okay, I can distract it while you two go on ahead."

The middle head let out a snarl and a thunderous bark that blew back their hair. Clarisse looked over at Annabeth. "So, what's your plan again?"

"I got it from the Waterland after I ran from the spiders," Annabeth told them as she dug through her pack. "I think this will work. Cerberus is a dog, after all."

Out of her pack came a red ball the size of a grapefruit with the words 'Waterland, Denver CO.' on it. Taking a deep breath she marched up to Cerberus, the ball held high. She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Cerberus looked to be as stunned as Harry and Clarisse. All three heads tilted sideways, the six nostrils dilating. Firmly Annabeth repeated, "Sit!"

Harry was sure that Cerberus would swallow Annabeth in a single bite, but the giant dog licked his three sets of lips and sat down. This squished quite a few dead spirits but they just floated out from under him and continued on their way.

"Good boy!" Annabeth praised him, tossing him the ball. He caught it in his middle mouth, though it was barely big enough for him to chew on. The other two heads snapped at the central one, trying to get at the red ball. After a minute Annabeth ordered him, "Drop it."

The heads stopped fighting and looked at her, the ball wedged between two of his teeth like a bit of meat. He made a loud whimper that was still frightening before dropping the ball, which was now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy," she smiled, picking up the ball seemingly oblivious to all the spit on it. Turning towards them she said, "Go now. EZ DEATH line- it's faster."

"But-" protested Harry.

"Now," Annabeth cut him off in a commanding tone. Grabbing his forearm, Clarisse started to run with Harry in tow. Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" snapped Annabeth. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered but stayed where he was as Clarisse and Harry went under him. Harry held his breath, hoping that he didn't sit down again. Once they were through Annabeth praised Cerberus with another "Good boy!"

Holding up the battered red ball, she tossed it to him. The dog's left mouth grabbed it this time, being attacked almost instantly by the middle head while the right head moaned in longing. While distracted, Annabeth walked briskly under its belly and joined them at the metal detector.

"Nice job," conceded Clarisse.

"Obedience school," she gasped. Harry didn't understand why there were tears in her eyes. Getting a grip on herself, she said, "Let's keep going. We need to get to Hades' palace."

Just before they headed through the EZ DEATH line, Cerberus let out a pitiful moan from all three mouths as he turned to face them. Annabeth turned around, Clarisse and Harry doing the same a heartbeat later.

The red ball was in pieces and covered in even more drool at his feet. Cerberus panted expectantly. Uncertainly and wistfully Annabeth told him, "Good boy."

The dog's heads turned sideways, evidently worried about her. Faintly Annabeth promised, "I'll bring you another ball soon. Would you like that?"

His tail wagged, and his mouths whimpered.

"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I promise." Annabeth turned her back on the giant dog. "Let's go."

They pushed through the metal detector, which immediately set off flashing red lights and started screaming: "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus resumed barking. Undeterred, the three dashed through the EZ DEATH gate, causing more alarms to go off, and entered the Underworld. Soon they were hiding in the trunk of a rotten black tree as security ghouls searched for them, yelling for back-up from the Furies.

"So… Cerberus likes balls. Did not see that coming," Harry whispered. Crammed next to him Clarisse joked, "At least we didn't have to sing…"

"True," agreed Harry before Annabeth shushed them. In the distance Cerberus was howling mournfully. Eventually the racket died down, and they left the tree trunk to get their first good look at the Underworld's Fields of Asphodel.


	19. Chapter 19: We Find Out the Truth

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson or Harry Potter. Wow, just three more chapters after this!

Also, if anyone has a guess on why I had Harry react to Hades the way he did, I'd like to hear it! Though I did make it kind of obvious. XD

Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Nineteen: We Find Out the Truth, Sort Of<strong>

The Fields of Asphodel were vast, dreary, and bleak. Everything was dead in it: blackened, trampled grass, a moist breeze, black poplar trees grew in clumps, and a high ceiling coated in pointy stalactites. Some of the stalactites had crashed to the ground, but the countless dead spirits who wandered the fields aimlessly didn't care about them.

Harry, Clarisse, and Annabeth tried to blend in, wary of any more security ghouls. But the dead all were semi-translucent with shimmering faces that were confused, angry, or both. Some tried to speak to them, but the dead's voices looked like chirping bats and once it became clear the demigods couldn't understand them they left. Harry still wished this was his world so he could look for his parents.

They crept towards a black tented pavilion with a banner that said: **Judgments for Elysium and Eternal Damnation! Welcome Newly Deceased!** One line went in but two went out.

The left line of spirits was flanked by security ghouls down a rocky path to the Fields of Punishment that glowed and smoked in the distance. It was a cracked, barren wasteland with rivers of lava, minefields, and miles of barbed wire dividing the sections. Harry didn't look any closer than that, turning to see where the right line went.

Those spirits were led down toward a small valley that was gated and secluded from the rest of the Underworld: neighborhoods of amazing houses from every time period, metallic flowers blooming on the lawns, rainbow-hued grass, distant laughter, and the smell of delicious cooking.

"Elysium," murmured Annabeth.

In the middle of Elysium was a glittering blue lake with three islands in its center. Annabeth told Harry, "And those are the Islands of the Blest, for the people who were reborn three times and achieved Elysium each time. That's the place for true heroes."

"Come on," Clarisse said gruffly as they moved on, deeper into the Fields of Asphodel. Harry's sneakers started to feel a little weird, but there were more pressing concerns. The colors were draining from their clothes, there was even less light, and the crowd of spirits started to thin. The trio got their weapons back out- just in case.

After nearly an hour of walking, the Furies' screeching became audible. On the horizon was a palace of shiny black obsidian, above which the Furies circled.

Quietly Annabeth said, "They're waiting for us."

"I love quests," repeated Clarisse, her face alight with the anticipation of battle.

Before either Harry or Annabeth could reply, the wings sprouted from Harry's sneakers, pulling him forward. As he toppled down back first onto the grass he protested, "HEY!"

"But you didn't say the trigger word," commented Clarisse, eyeing the still fluttering wings on the sneakers. As Harry struggled to his feet, the sneakers pulled him forward again, making him fall down. Flapping rapidly, the sneakers flew Harry away from the two girls. Desperately Harry shouted "_Maia_!" again and again to no effect. He picked up speed and dropped, skidding downhill. Annabeth and Clarisse were running after him. Annabeth shouted, "Untie the shoes!"

"Are you crazy? Just kick them off!" countered Clarisse. Harry tried the latter, but with the way the wings were pulling him it was hard. After a while the sneakers opted to turn to the right, dragging him off.

"Aah!" went Harry, yanking up tufts of grass as he tried to get a grip into the ground. But the slope was getting steeper as the sneakers gained speed. Annabeth and Clarisse kept running but the gap between them and Harry just kept growing.

"Hold onto something!" Annabeth shouted as they entered a dark tunnel with the stalactites reaching down. Harry cut his hands on the gravel, but there was nothing big enough or sturdy enough for him to hold onto. The tunnel grew darker and colder the deeper in they went, and Harry felt the dark, evil magic envelop the area completely. Harry increased his struggles when he saw the tunnel widen into a huge cavern, with a familiar chasm in the middle. He was heading for its edge. He was going to fall in.

Furiously kicking, Harry got off the right shoe, which tumbled down into the chasm. That slowed him down enough to grab onto a big rock sticking out of the slope and kick off the other shoe.

Panting, Harry clung to the rock. He was about seventeen feet away from the edge. Annabeth and Clarisse carefully edged down to him and helped him up. Together they hobbled up to the tunnel's mouth. Harry shrugged off his backpack, which felt a lot heavier after so much exertion, before collapsing onto the dark gravel.

"I guess those were the gifts to beware," Clarisse commented grimly, leaning against her electric spear. Annabeth shot her a heated look. "Luke gave Harry those!"

"Whatever. They also tried to pull him down into there. The entrance to Tartarus," Clarisse nodded towards the pit, her eyes darkening.

Harry got to his feet, hearing a whisper coming from deep within the pit. It was muttering in a low, evil voice in a language older than the Greek tongue. Softly he said, "Magic."

Annabeth glanced at her reflection in her dagger. "We have to get out of here."

Harry could barely keep up with the two girls as they dashed up the tunnel, his backpack weighing him down far more than it should have even with his near-death experience. From the pit came a cold wind, trying to suck them into it. Had they been any nearer, they probably would have been. Instead they made their way back to the Fields of Asphodel, an outraged wail following them. Once in a grove of black poplar trees, hidden from view, Harry asked, "So… what was that?"

Annabeth bit her lower lip, clearly having a theory and equally clearly not wanting to share it.

"Spit it out, bird brain," snapped Clarisse. Harry looked down at his bloodied socks before Clarisse got out his sneakers from her backpack. He hadn't even known she had kept them. Clarisse poured a little nectar over his injuries and fed him an ambrosia square. That made him feel a lot better, although his backpack remained strangely heavy. Annabeth had remained quiet throughout this.

"Well?" snapped Clarisse.

"It's nothing."

Clarisse grabbed Annabeth and pressed her up against a tree, Annabeth's dagger clattering to the ground with a well-placed twist of her arm. "No, it's not. Something just tried to suck us into Tartarus, Hairball in particular. If you have an idea on what, tell us."

Grey eyes finally met brown ones. "The Crooked One."

Clarisse paled, letting go of Annabeth. "**He's** trying to involve himself in this? Can he even do that?"

Annabeth shrugged helplessly. Harry brushed gravel dust off his T-shirt, not knowing what they were discussing though the title sounded familiar. "Look, we're almost at Hades' palace. Let's keep moving and get this over with."

"Right," agreed Annabeth, picking up her dagger.

The Furies still circled the palace far up in the dour mist. The outer black walls of the fortress shone, and the twenty-foot-tall bronze gates were open. Apparently they were expected.

Harry gulped at the gates' images: an atomic bomb blowing up a city, a trench full of soldiers wearing gas masks, a line of famine victims with empty bowls. Annabeth stared at them. "They look old… could they have been prophecies once?"

"Who knows, who cares. Let's go in," Clarisse snapped uneasily.

Inside was a strange courtyard, consisting of twisted shrubs, weird luminous plants, multicolored mushrooms, huge precious jewels scattered about, and dozens of Medusa's statues smiling grotesquely. Pomegranate trees, an orchard full that glowed bright in the incomplete darkness, grew in the center.

"That's the garden of Persephone, let's keep walking," Annabeth said sharply. Harry nodded, already trying to resist the temptation to try one due to their delicious tart scent. Clarisse agreed, "One bite, and we'd be stuck here forever."

They walked up the palace's steps, between black columns, through a portico, and into the house of Hades. Everything was black save for the shiny bronze floor and the iron torch-holders. The palace lacked a roof, just opening up to the cavern that ended far above. All the side doors were guarded by a skeleton in military gear and weapons throughout history: Greek armor with spears, British redcoat uniforms with muskets, American camouflage with shotguns. None bothered them, only watched as they walked down the hall towards the big set of doors at the other end of the hall.

That entrance was guarded by a pair of grinning US Marine skeletons. Rocket-propelled grenade launchers were held across their chests. Admiringly Clarisse asked them, "Not bad. What's their range?"

Annabeth gave her an incredulous look. The still-increasing weight of Harry's backpack kept him from commenting. He didn't understand why it was getting so heavy.

A dry wind blew down the corridor, resulting in the doors opening. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess we can enter," went Annabeth, biting down on her lower lip.

Respectfully they entered. Harry recognized as the room the pit had shown him. But this time the throne was occupied with Hades, Lord of the Dead. He was over ten feet tall, garbed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was milky pale but his hair was jet black and down to his shoulders. Hades radiated power as he lounged on his throne, looking dangerous, lithe, and powerful as a great hound.

Harry immediately thought he looked familiar, seeing a vague resemblance to one of the people both the Oracle and the pit had shown him. Someone Harry cared about for some reason. Was that why he felt that he should listen to his opinion? Not necessarily obey, but at least listen to him.

Or it was just Hades' intense, charismatic eyes that made Harry feel that way?

In a low voice he said, "You are brave to come here, mortal. After what your body's old spirit had done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are just foolish."

Harry started to feel a little numb but shook it off as he stepped forward. "Lord, I and my friends come with a request."

Hades raised an eyebrow and sat forward. Shadowy faces appeared in his robes' folds, as if souls from the Fields of Punishment had been woven together to form his robes. Harry averted his eyes to the smaller throne next to Hades' that he hadn't noticed before: shaped like a black flower gilded in gold. Apparently Persephone was currently off with her mother.

"Arrogant child. Speak then."

Harry took a deep breath before speaking. "Look, sir, war among gods is unneeded and unwarranted. Please, help us find the master bolt and return it to Zeus before it is too late- before millions of innocents join your realm due to your brothers' pride and anger."

After what had just happened, Harry felt certain that Hades had not stolen the bolt, that the pit had. Everyone just hated Hades enough to blame it on him. Hades' eyes brightened dangerously. "I do not want to expand my kingdom, that is true. This past century alone I have had to open so many subdivisions, obtain more security ghouls, increased traffic problems, double overtime for the staff. If I was not also the god of precious metals, I would be broke by now!"

Annabeth and Clarisse exchanged bewildered looks.

Hades' tone grew even angrier as he continued. "Poseidon got his son to steal Zeus' master bolt and my helmet on the winter solstice to bring about war and to increase his power!"

Then his tone turned suddenly to pity. "And, you mortal, were in the wrong place in the wrong time. You were used to further his scheme, but now I must get back my helmet!"

Annabeth's grey eyes were narrowed as she tried to understand all of this. "But, Lord Hades, your helmet of darkness is missing as well?"

"So you totally weren't watching us at the Arch?" Clarisse clarified. Annabeth smacked her upside the head. "Ouch!"

Hades rose up. "Yes! Are you not a daughter of Athena? I said nothing about the helmet's disappearance, because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched, and waited when it became clear you were coming to me."

"Sorry about that; Chiron said it was our best shot and I didn't know enough to know about any other possibilities," Harry apologized. "I figured out that it was the pit about an hour ago. But we still need help- not just to get back the master bolt, but your helmet too."

Both Annabeth and Clarisse face-palmed.

Hades' gaze gentled as he stared at Harry for a long moment. "You truly do not understand the extent of how you have been used. Yes, I sent the Furies, but after that I learned that you were innocent even if in the form of Poseidon's son."

Harry stepped towards Hades. Quietly he asked, "How have I been used?"

"Look inside your backpack."

"My backpack? I know it's gotten heavier all of a sudden-" went Harry, baffled. Then it hit him, and he gulped. He shrugged off the backpack and unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends. It hummed with energy.

"How did it get in there?" frowned Harry. Hades shrugged, stepping off his throne to shrink down to mortal size. "I suppose it was always in there, merely hidden from sight."

Clarisse let loose with a feral snarl, making the others stare at her. Breathing heavily, she said, "Lord Hades, you made a mistake. **MY **father gave Harry that backpack in Denver, not Poseidon. Poseidon and Zeus were tricked."

"Ares is the god of war," admitted Annabeth, carefully edging away from the other girl.

Hades' eyes flashed. "So it is Ares that is to blame for this- not my brothers or their children?"

"So it would seem," mumbled Harry, still staring down at the master bolt. Looking up, he approached Hades quietly. "I'm sorry for thinking you were the thief. I'll go return this to Zeus and then begin searching for your helmet."

"Actually, I think I know where the helmet is," Clarisse growled, her eyes now flecked with red. That freaked out Harry more than anything else he had experienced on the quest. She got out her pearl and stared at it. "We need to go talk to my father."

Harry held out his hand towards Hades. "I swear on the River Styx that I will find and return your helmet of darkness."

Thunder boomed as Hades shook his hand, clearly surprised. Far above the Furies squawked in surprise. Harry and Annabeth got out their pearls as well, and the three of them smashed the pearls at their feet. For one long moment nothing happened. Then the pearl fragments emitted a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea air. They became encased in ghostly white spheres that started to float off the ground.

As they approached the cavern roof Annabeth shouted, "How do you control these things?"

"I don't think you can," Harry shouted back.

Yet when the bubbles slammed into the ceiling, they did not pop; instead they just kept racing through the solid rock. Harry remembered what the Naiad had said about the pearls: _What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea._

Harry's sphere popped once in the ocean, but he swam upward with Annabeth and Clarisse's bubbles until they too popped at the ocean's surface in the middle of the Santa Monica Bay. Annabeth had knocked a surfer off his board, making him complain, "Dude!"

Clarisse swam over to a life buoy, Annabeth doing the same. When a curious great white shark about eleven feet long circled closer to them, Harry snapped at it, "Go away!"

The shark turned and raced off to deeper waters. This made the surfer scream something about bad mushrooms and paddle away as fast as possible. Clarisse looked out to the rising sun over the land.

"It's June 17th already?"

Harry stared down at his reflection, his marker scar suddenly strange irony at the lightning bolt in his backpack. He needed to have a long talk the war god- if Clarisse didn't beat him to it.


	20. Chapter 20: Clarisse Battles Her Father

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson. Noah & Miles decided they wanted another cameo. Yeah; they own themselves. Somebody in Japan owns Final Fantasy.

And why is Word accepting 'slugfest' as a word? And just two more chapters until the second book!

Edited very kindly by Mellie Erdmann. ^^

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty: Clarisse Battles Her Jerk Relative<strong>

Harry used his water powers to push the life buoy across the bay to the beach, stumbling across the sand as the sun rose amid an orange and violet sky. Clouds were already clumping together in preparation for rain later that day. The backpack was heavy with the master bolt.

Annabeth tugged at her drenched ponytail, aggravated. "I can't believe it. We went all that way for nothing!"

"Not for nothing," argued Harry. "We found out Hades didn't do it, and who did end up with the master bolt to put it in my backpack. The Oracle's prophecy was right- I went west to face the god who turned. But that god wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war or pulled off the theft. Someone else stole two of the Big Three's symbols of power and framed the third's kid."

"My father," growled Clarisse, pointing. Ares was waiting for them in his black leather jacket and shades, an aluminum baseball bat in hand. His motorcycle was still on behind him, its headlight turning everything it touched blood red.

"Hey, kid," he greeted Harry. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," Harry retorted bitterly. "You stole the helm and master bolt."

"Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power is a big no-no. But Perseus isn't the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use?" snapped Clarisse.

Bemused, Ares said, "It doesn't matter. The point is that Harry here is impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Corpse Breath for killing you. And Corpse Breath will have Zeus' master bolt, so Zeus will be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this…"

Out of his pocket came a black ski cap, Ares placing it on his bike's handlebars. The cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet. Annabeth gulped, "The helm of darkness."

"Exactly," nodded Ares smugly. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Corpse Breath will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"I'm all for fighting, but there needs to be a world left over to fight in," argued Clarisse. "Besides, lots of mortals would die. If they're pansies, that's their choice, but that doesn't mean they need to die."

"Besides, they're your family!" Annabeth added.

But Ares just shrugged. "That's the best sort of war, 'cause they're the bloodiest."

"So the bolt was in my backpack this entire time?" Harry questioned.

"Yes and no. It's probably too complicated for your tiny mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got. It always returns to your pocket, right?"

Harry nodded hesitantly.

"Anyway, I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades- bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way, no loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why send it to Hades?" Annabeth asked, eyes narrowed pensively. "Why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?"

"Why didn't I… with that kind of fire power…" Ares' jaw twitched as he mused it over. Then his face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught red-handed, holding the bolt."

Brokenly Clarisse argued, "That's a lie. You- we- aren't planners like this. That's Athena's thing. Someone else came up with the idea."

"No! It was my idea, you brat."

Annabeth reasoned it out: "Someone sent a hero to commit the theft of the bolt and the helmet. Then when Zeus sent out you and the others to hunt him down, you did catch the thief. But instead of turning him over to Zeus, something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. What's in the pit is ordering you around."

Ares roared, smoke drifting up from his sunglasses, "I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams."

"Father, no one said anything about dreams," Clarisse informed him quietly.

Although caught off-guard, Ares tried to conceal that with a smirk. "Let's get back to the problem at hand, Harry Potter. You're alive and you can't be taking that bolt back to Mount Olympus. Those hardheaded idiots might listen to you, so I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

With a snap of his fingers, the sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar. It was huge and ugly and had sharp tusks, pawing the sand as it glared at Harry with beady eyes. The boar was clearly awaiting the order to attack. Grimly Clarisse stepped forward, twirling her laser pointer as it turned back into an electric spear.

"No way, Father. I'll take the hairball's place and battle the boar."

"Girl, this ain't your fight." The boar charged, Annabeth and Harry getting out their weapons. But Clarisse ran to meet it, leaping up to ram her spear through its upper back, coming out in its chest. With a squeal of pain the boar dissolved into sand. She turned to face her father.

"Is that all you got, Father? Battle me yourself. Prove to us that you truly are the god of war who would rip apart civilization for a good fight."

"Clarisse-" Harry began, desperately not wanting her to battle in his place. But Clarisse kept her head trained on Ares, saying, "No. He is my father. And besides, you can barely use a sword after a month of training. I am the Ares cabin counselor, a daughter of blood and battle. This is my moment."

Annabeth grabbed Harry's wrist, whispering, "She's right… I hate it, but she's right."

Flames appeared at the top of his sunglasses. "You really want this, don't you?"

"I lose, you get the bolt and kill me but not my allies. I win, we get the helm and you leave."

Ares grabbed his baseball bat, it turning into a silvery spear whose tip glowed with electricity. "Let's do this."

Annabeth and Harry backed off, giving the two space. Harry said, "Get him good, Clarisse."

"I plan to, Harry. See, Annabeth? Ares can plan just like Athena."

"If you say so," commented Annabeth. "Live, okay? Who else am I going to battle in capture the flag?"

"You all done saying your good-byes?" snarled Ares, approaching his defiant daughter. "I have been fighting for eons, punk. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

"Honor and courage and defiance," Clarisse smiled coldly, spear at ready. He slashed at her, but she blocked it. Clarisse wrapped her foot around his ankle and made him tumble to the sand but he got to his feet before she could strike.

Furiously Ares slashed and jabbed at her, Clarisse pouring all her energy into surviving. She kept trying to get in close, but Ares kept her at arm's length. He tried to kick her in the chest but Clarisse rolled out of the way, swinging her spear wildly to keep him from attacking as she did.

As father and daughter continued their battle, Annabeth and Harry noticed the arrival of a cop car. Annabeth winced, "That's the last thing we need right now…"

"What will they see?" wondered Harry, watching the red lights flash.

"Who knows? Guns, maybe."

Harry felt very uneasy at the way one of the cops was looking at him. He muttered to Annabeth, "Maybe I could manipulate the Mist again? I did it by accident to Grover… maybe I could do it on purpose… it'll keep the cops out of Ares' and our ways at least if it works."

"It's worth a shot," Annabeth shrugged uneasily, her dagger still in hand.

Clarisse and Ares were still fighting fiercely, each of them able to predict the other's movements due to their shared heritage and searching for any advantage.

As more cop cars pulled up, Harry stepped forward, closing his eyes and inhaling. Then he reached out and _twisted_. Or that's what it felt like, anyway. His knees gave out, but he heard the cops muttering about how the fight had broken up and they needed to get back on patrol. The rest of the crowd petered away as Annabeth dashed up to him. The few who remained had the strange gait of disguised satyrs or shimmered in the increasing light as if spirits.

"Nice work, Hairball," she told him. But then they heard a painful roar from Ares. Looking at the battle, it looked like Clarisse had thrown sand into her father's face and had sliced at him. Ares had blocked the blow, but arcs of lightning had still traveled through him and his spear was now dented. Breathing heavily, Clarisse taunted him, "Come on, this ain't so bad."

Then the sound of flapping, leathery wings became apparent. Harry and Annabeth exchanged exasperated looks as the Furies circled some yards above to watch.

"This is a private matter!" Ares snarled at the watchers. "Be GONE!"

With a swipe of his hand, a wall of red flame rushed out towards them, sending them screaming. He laughed riotously, saying, "Let us add Poseidon's replacement goldfish to the barbecue."

"Over my dead body," snarled Clarisse, taking advantage to his distraction to use that trick Luke had tried to teach Harry with the sword, making him drop his weapon. Her face set, Clarisse rammed her spear at Ares' chest.

He caught it before it was half an inch in, but golden blood still began dribbling down his jacket. His hair started to smoke from the electricity the spear gave off. The spear itself smoked, then went dull. Yanking it out, Ares broke it in half. Then he let out a huge roar that sent the three of them tumbling backwards, sand flying everything. With an expression of intense pain, shock, and disbelief he headed towards the collapsed Clarisse, muttering curses in ancient Greek.

Harry ran forward, Riptide out. Standing in front of her, he told Ares, "She won. Give us the helmet and leave. Now, before I give you another scar. Maybe a nice lightning bolt to match me and to honor your thievery?"

Annabeth joined Harry, saying, "Two against one. We can do this- Poseidon and Athena, working together."

"Technically I'm just a mortal," Harry pointed out.

"Technically nothing," coughed Clarisse, struggling to sit up. "You're a demigod all right, Hairball."

Ares looked like he was about to blast all of them into oblivion when something strange happened. Light, sound, and color faded away as a cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing down time and making life itself seem hopeless.

The darkness lifted, leaving Ares stunned. Golden blood was still running down his jacket. He glowered down at Clarisse before letting out a snort. "I guess you're my kid for sure. Don't expect me to listen to any prayers from you for a while, though."

Clarisse just lifted her head proudly.

Ares' body began to glow, and both girls turned away so Harry did the same. The light died away, and when Harry looked Ares had vanished. Baffled Harry went, "What was that?"

"Ares' true form- had we seen it, we would have turned to ashes," Annabeth informed him as they helped Clarisse to her feet. Kindly she asked, "How are you doing?"

"Just took on my immortal father and pretty much won," Clarisse commented. "I guess things could be much worse."

She looked shaky though, and Harry sensed that it was more from Ares' betrayal of Olympus than any physical exertion. Together they made their way to Ares' bike where Harry picked up the helmet of darkness. The Furies flew down in front of them, shifting into their mortal forms. The middle Fury, who Harry had first known as Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Although her fangs were bared, she looked more disappointed than anything.

"We saw the whole battle," she hissed. "So, it truly was not you?"

"Nope. And I won't apologize for killing you because you were trying to kill me," Harry informed her. Staring at his pasty reflection in the helmet he asked, "Would it count as fulfilling my promise to Hades if you three returned the helmet?"

"I think so," Annabeth nodded, so Harry walked over and held it out to Mrs. Dodds.

She took him from him, saying, "Live well, Harry Potter, and grow to be a true hero. Because if you do not and you come into my clutches again…"

Then she cackled from the joy that idea gave her. She and the other two Furies reverted to their true forms and flew off. Harry returned to his friends, exhausted. He rubbed absently at his marker lightning bolt scar, which was starting to ache.

"That was one heck of a battle, Clarisse."

Clarisse shrugged. "I'm a daughter of war."

"I found the whole ordeal terrifying, but that just might be me," Annabeth observed wryly.

"What kept Ares from killing us?" asked Harry. Annabeth and Clarisse shared a look that told Harry they had figured out what was in the pit. Despite his crash course in Greek mythology, Harry still didn't have a clue who or what was in the pit. Harry reached back to pat his backpack. "We'd better get this back to Olympus."

"How?" wondered Clarisse. Annabeth said, "We could contact Miles and Noah again. They might be able to help."

One Iris message later (it took Noah a minute to notice them since they had called in the middle of him playing some video game), they were on a Greyhound bus for Miles' place in Arizona. It was mid-afternoon by the time they were there. Very graciously Miles let them take turns using the shower while waiting for Noah to show up.

"So, I'm guessing I don't have to move to Japan now?" was Noah's first question, the five of them sitting at the kitchen table drinking Mountain Dew.

"Nope. We got the lightning bolt back, and we just need to get back to NYC by the summer solstice," Annabeth said. "Look, Chiron will pay you back, but we're running low on funds and…"

"If we don't get the bolt back, I'll have fought my father for nothing because the world will end," Clarisse finished. Harry amended, "And you'll have to move to Japan anyway."

Noah looked over at Miles. "I'm just a basement dweller. I can give them some money, but not enough to pay for plane tickets."

"Train," Annabeth corrected him. "It's not wise for Harry to fly, since he's in the body of Poseidon's son and Poseidon and Zeus don't get along."

"Which is why we're in this mess in the first place," Miles noted.

"More or less, yeah," agreed Clarisse before chugging down some more soda. "So… help? Please?"

"Sure, why not. Just don't use the master bolt in here- it'll probably trigger a mass black-out or something," Miles warned them. Offended, Annabeth said, "We're not like Noah."

"HEY!"

Everyone ignored him, so he sulked.

"Hopefully someone or something will smooth over my legal trouble," groaned Harry, resting his head on his arms. Miles gave Annabeth a slip of paper with his address and phone number on it. "Use this instead of an Iris message next time, all right?"

"I'm just glad I was playing _beeping Final Fantasy_ when you guys called."

Annabeth, Clarisse, and Harry spent the night at Miles' place. The next morning, the 18th, they took a Greyhound bus and used the money the brothers had lent them to get onto the express train which would have them in NYC by midday on the 20th.


	21. Chapter 21: I Settle My Tab

Oh wow. Second to last chapter already. Wow. I just realized the irony of Harry going on a quest where a possible title for the seventh book involved the word quest.

I got nothing but plot bunnies & Twigtown Tales. And remember to check out "Percy Jackson and the Sorcerer's Stone"! Please?

Edited by Mellie Erdmann.

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-one: I Settle My Tab<strong>

The sun was just past its zenith on June 20th when Annabeth, Clarisse, and Harry arrived in New York City. Their trip back east had been eerily uneventful; Annabeth theorized that the gods were holding back the monsters since Harry had the master bolt in his possession. During the last leg of their journey they cleaned up and got into the clothes Miles had bought for them while they had slept since their camp clothes had gotten pretty dirty over the past week and a half. Annabeth had gotten khakis and an indigo T-shirt; Clarisse got camouflage pants and a fire red sweatshirt; and Harry got a black T-shirt and slacks.

Most of the time was spend in silence. All three were still processing what had occurred in Los Angeles: Hades was not the thief, Ares had tricked them, and there was a force trying to (further) divide the Greek gods. Clarisse looked a bit lost about her father's actions, Annabeth kept scribbling out strategies, and Harry found himself rubbing his forehead from his near-constant headache. After all he had gone through, though, Harry wasn't surprised his head hurt. His marker scar was faded now, and Harry didn't feel like redoing it.

Since Harry didn't know his way around NYC, the two girls helped him get to the Empire State Building. That involved trekking city blocks and taking the subway with some of their remaining money. Quietly the three stared up at its spire.

"So… Mount Olympus at last," went Clarisse. "I gotta say, I still love quests."

"You're insane."

"Like you're one to talk, bird brain."

"You two can go back to Camp Half-Blood now. I can go myself," Harry assured them. Clarisse slugged him in the arm, saying, "No way, Hairball. Dad might think I didn't want to show my face."

"Zeus might still blast us, but I used the bathroom last night to IM Chiron after you two went to sleep. He knows what really happened, so let's get this over."

Taking a deep breath, Harry said, "All right."

Once in the lobby, they walked up to the security guard. He was reading a book with a lion-rabbit-sheep hybrid on the cover. Politely Harry said, "Six hundredth floor, please."

After a minute the guard looked up. "No such floor, kiddo."

"We need an audience with Zeus," explained Annabeth.

"Sorry?" he commented with a vacant smile.

Clarisse narrowed her eyes, "You heard blondie."

The guard shrugged, "No appointment, no audience, kids. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."

"I think he's expecting us," Harry commented, tugging off his backpack. He unzipped it and pulled out the master bolt. "Ta-da."

After a moment of staring at it, the guard realized what it was and paled. "That's not…"

"Want me to prove it? I like lightning," Harry observed, reaching for the cap.

"No! No! No!" he went hastily, scrambling out of his seat. The three preteens waited as he searched his desk, the guard finally handing Harry a key card. "Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you and inset this into the security slot."

Putting away the master bolt, Harry followed the girls into the elevator. Once he slipped the key card into the slot, it disappeared but a new button appeared. The new button was red and said 600. Harry gave the two girls a look. "One more chance to leave while you still can."

"Press the stupid button already, Hairball," Annabeth told him with a teasing grin. With a smile Harry pressed it.

As they went up, ABBA played. Nearly all of "Waterloo" had played before the elevator emitted a ding. The doors slid open and they exited. Harry's eyes widened at the sight.

They were standing on a narrow white marble walkway midair, the steps winding up a cloud further up into the sky. Far below was Manhattan. Annabeth smiled dreamily. "It's always so breath-taking. What architecture."

On top of a pile of clouds was a mountain peak covered in snow. On the mountainside were dozens of multistoried palaces all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and burning bronze braziers. Roads made their tangled way up to the peak where the largest palace was. Olive trees and rosebushes bloomed in many places. There was an open-air market full of colorful tents, a stone amphitheater took up a large part of one mountainside, a race track, and a coliseum. It looked pristine and full of life.

"Enough gawking already," Clarisse interrupted impatiently. "Don't fall, Hairball, 'cause it's a long way down."

Harry bounded over the steps, enjoying the sensation of near-flight, leaving the girls behind. Everyone was busy preparing for tomorrow's celebration but all stopped to wave or stare at the passing trio. A few even whispered among themselves as the demigods went by. They climbed up the main path to the big palace in white and silver.

Annabeth noted, "It looks a lot like Hades' palace."

"I guess the gods have similar tastes," quipped Clarisse wryly.

"Very funny, Clarisse," sighed Annabeth. "Just remember they could blast us with a thought… so be polite."

They went up the steps to the central courtyard, and from there to the throne room. Harry suddenly felt very tiny. All of Privet Drive could have fit in with room to spare in the chamber, with its huge columns reaching up to a domed ceiling which showed gilded constellations.

Twelve titanic thrones were arranged in an inverted U, showing where the cabins had gotten their pattern from. Only two of the thrones were occupied: the head throne on the right and the one to its immediate left. Harry, Clarisse, and Annabeth knew who they were and approached meekly.

The two were in giant human form and nearly glowed in power as Ares had right before revealing his true form. Unlike Hades, Zeus and Poseidon wore modern clothes.

The black haired, storm grey eyed Lord of the Gods wore an indigo suit with a deep gold tie. His throne was unornamented platinum. Zeus was proud, handsome, and grim with a grey-flecked, trim beard. The air around him sparked of electricity and smelled of ozone.

The Earthshaker was clearly Zeus and Hades' brother but was far more relaxed than either of them. He was tanned with scarred hands, black hair, and sea green eyes surrounded by laugh lines. His attire was leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and an orange Hawaiian shirt with a pineapple pattern. A giant deep-sea fisherman's chair was his throne, one that could swivel and whose built-in holster for a fishing pole held a bronze trident that flickered with green light at the tips.

Although they weren't moving or speaking, the two gods had clearly been arguing before the demigods' entrance. Harry waved awkwardly. "Hello. I'm Harry Potter."

"Greetings, Harry Potter. So, brother. You still claim that boy who was in this form before Harry? You claim Perseus Jackson, sired against our sacred oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoing. Now let the boy speak."

"Um, can Annabeth and Clarisse help me tell the story? They were there too," requested Harry.

Zeus nodded curtly, saying, "I shall listen. Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast them down from Olympus."

"Address Lord Zeus and tell your story," Poseidon instructed them. So they began to recount their story, backtracking and overlapping when needed. After they finished, Harry got out the master bolt and laid the shining cylinder at Zeus' feet.

For several minutes everyone was silent, the only sound being the hearth fire's crackling. Zeus opened his palm, the lightning bolt flying into it. As his fist closed on it, its metallic points flared brightly until he held something that looked more like Harry's scar that then turned into a twenty-foot arc of brilliant energy that took Harry's breath away.

"I sense the demigods speak the truth. Yet that Ares would do such a thing… it is most unlike him."

"Well, we can be pretty impulsive and arrogant sometimes," Clarisse admitted. Poseidon agreed, "That does run in the family."

"What about the pit?" asked Annabeth. At her urging all involving the pit had been told. "What is in the pit came up with the idea, not Ares. Like Harry, Ares was used to begin a war."

Clarisse looked hopeful. "That's certainly possible."

"It was very old- perhaps even predating you," suggested Harry.

The two gods looked at one another, holding a brief, harsh discussion in ancient Greek that Harry couldn't follow. Judging from their expressions, Annabeth and Clarisse couldn't quite follow them either. Poseidon suggested something, trying to argue when Zeus tried to silence him. But Zeus held up his free hand angrily, thunder booming as he did so.

"We will not speak of this anymore." He glanced down at the master bolt. "I must go personally in order to purify this thunderbolt in the water of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."

Harry felt kind of offended by that. Zeus stood up and looked down at Harry. "You have done me a service. Few heroes could have accomplished as much, mortal."

"Annabeth and Clarisse helped," mumbled Harry, looking down at the cold floor.

"To show my thanks, I shall spare your life. But retaining a mortal link to Poseidon does not bode well for the future of Olympus. However, for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

"Thank you…?"

"Do not let me find you three here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this and it shall be your last sensation." Thunder shook the palace, and Zeus vanished in a blinding flash of lightning.

Poseidon propped up his head with a hand. "My brother has always had a flair for dramatic entrances and exits. I still think he would've done well as the god of theater."

Clarisse hid a burst of laughter as a cough. Harry looked between the three of them. "So, what exactly is in that pit? You three know, don't you?"

"Just a suspicion," Annabeth stated quietly. Clarisse clarified, "Kronos, the king of the Titans."

Harry couldn't deny that the name put a knot in his stomach. Annabeth, Clarisse, and even Poseidon looked very nervous and uneasy. Leaning back in his throne Poseidon recounted, "In the First War, Zeus cut our father Kronos into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had done to his own father, Ouranos. Afterwards Zeus cast Kronos' remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. Then he had the Titan army scattered, their mountain fortress on Etna was destroyed, and their allies driven to the most distant corners of the earth."

"But Titans cannot die any more than a god can," Annabeth frowned.

Poseidon nodded somberly. "Correct. So whatever is left of Kronos is still alive in some twisted way, conscious in and of his eternal pain. Still hungering for his former power and authority."

"He's trying to return," realized Harry. "That's what this was all about, isn't it?"

"The key word is try. From time to time Kronos has indeed stirred, awakening monsters and causing nightmares in life and fantasy. Suggesting he could rise from the pit… it is unlikely."

"But he's going to do anything he can to come back," Harry argued. He was starting to feel light-headed from the pervading sense of déjà vu.

Poseidon shook his head seriously. "Lord Zeus has closed discussion on this matter. He will not allow talk of Kronos. The quest is done with- that is all you need to do."

"Very well," conceded Harry, deciding to trust the gods for the time being. They were gods, after all, and this was their world, not his. Annabeth and Clarisse just as reluctantly concurred.

"You must go before Lord Zeus returns. Enjoy the summer solstice and the summer itself," the sea god told them. Then he added, "I am sorry that you have been brought into this, Harry. This has brought a hero's fate upon you, and a hero's fate is never anything but tragic."

Harry was quiet for a minute. "I think I can live with that, Poseidon."

"Perhaps, but you shouldn't have to," Poseidon commented seriously. "Now, leave for camp. Farewell, Harry. Farewell, Clarisse. Farewell, Annabeth."

The three bowed and departed. On their way back the minor gods, naiads, and satyrs all stared at them with respect and gratitude. Clarisse whistled that song she had started to sing in the truck on their way to Los Angeles.

"Knock it off, Clarisse."

"Never, bird brain. We totally need to do this next summer."

"No, not another quest to save the world," Annabeth denied empathetically.

"Well, not necessarily to save the world. But another quest would be wicked," Clarisse grinned. "Right, Hairball?"

"Right," laughed Harry. "Okay, I'm Hairball and Annabeth is bird brain. Clarisse, you need a nickname, don't you? Sparky maybe?"

"No, no," giggled Annabeth. "One of Ares' symbols is a boar- so Miss Piggy!"

"Hi-yah!" went Clarisse, karate chopping. Then she shook her head. "No, not quite."

"Blood brat?"

"I like that one," grinned Clarisse.

"Blood brat?" went Annabeth in disbelief. Harry shrugged. "She _is_ a daughter of war."

"All right then. You're Hairball, I'm bird brain, and she's blood brat. Gods, we're messed up."

"Have you seen our family tree? All things considered, we're pretty normal," snorted Clarisse.

Once back in Manhattan they went to Mrs. Jackson's apartment. Smelly Gabe's stuff was gone, and the apartment was much better for it. They had vanilla cake with vanilla icing (both dyed blue) for dinner, and Mrs. Jackson stayed up late with them as they retold the story of their quest.

Mrs. Jackson looked years younger without Gabe around. Early the next morning, Harry woke up to her making blueberry pancakes. She accepted his offer of scrambling the eggs as part of breakfast. As they worked side by side she told him, "You could come home at the end of summer. I'd find a school for you, you could enroll under Percy's name-"

"Mrs. Jackson, I won't live a lie," interrupted Harry. "But thank you. I- I know this must be hard on you."

She gave him a one-armed hug and kissed him on the head. Harry could not remember having ever been hugged like this before. Actually, he had a hard time remembering the time he had gotten a hug at all. "Maybe, but it's so much harder on you. And it will only get worse."

"It'll be okay," Harry told her.

"I'm going to start working on getting my degree this fall… I guess I'll just say my son is at boarding school."

Harry closed his eyes, and saw himself- his real self- sitting by a lake with four other preteens in the same strange old-fashioned uniforms. "You know, somehow I doubt that's far from the truth."

Sally smiled sadly. "I know."

After breakfast, she drove them to Camp Half-Blood, dropping them off at the base of Thalia's tree. They were back in their worn camp clothes, since they were going back to being campers instead of questers.

"Huzzah, it's the summer solstice," sighed Annabeth, looking up at the giant pine tree.

"Yeah, well, let's go get the party started then," suggested Clarisse.

Harry nodded. "I like that idea."

And together they went up the hill, back to camp.


	22. Chapter 22: The Prophecy Comes True

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.

Wow, done already with this first fics in this series. Halloween feels so long ago… and now it's the Ides of March. Once again, thanks to Mellie Erdmann for editing. ^^

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><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-two: The Prophecy Comes True<strong>

Since the successful questers had returned and it was the summer solstice, it was a party to remember. Following camp tradition, the trio wore laurel wreaths on their heads at the big feast in their honor. Harry loved it: grapes, cheese, tomatoes, bread, barbeque, and more.

Once the feast was over Annabeth, Clarisse, and Harry led a procession down to the bonfire. There they got to burn the shrouds their cabins had made for them during their absence. Annabeth's was gray silk embroidered with owls. Clarisse's was red with a spear embroidered on it. Since Harry was the only demigod in Poseidon's cabin, the Hermes' cabin had made his shroud- green with a yellow lightning bolt on it.

As the moon rose Apollo's children led the sing-along and passed out s'mores. Annabeth and Clarisse were catching up with their half-siblings while Harry sat by himself, watching. Before they went to bed Dionysus made a lukewarm welcoming speech.

"Yes, yes, so the little brats didn't get themselves killed and now they'll have even bigger heads. Huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be **no** canoe races this Saturday…"

So instead that Saturday Harry, Clarisse, Annabeth, and the Stoll brothers skipped stones across the lake and talked.

"How do your siblings feel about you fighting Ares?" Annabeth asked Clarisse curiously.

"Well," Clarisse smirked, "let's just say the number of challengers to being counselor has gone down to zero. I've definitely proven myself."

"No kidding," went Connor.

"Things were kind of chaotic while you were gone," Travis reported. "The cabins got into some fights once it got out about Zeus and Poseidon's fight."

"We heard," sighed Annabeth. "At least we got that sorted out."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Hopefully this upcoming school year will be quiet. I'm staying for that, by the way. I don't think I'd fit in, you know, in the Big Apple."

"Excellent," grinned the Stoll brothers. Connor commented, "We can further your pranking education."

Travis nodded, adding, "And maybe sleep over in Poseidon's cabin when ours gets a little too noisy? Eh, eh?"

"And I can give you some… help in learning how to use a sword," Clarisse volunteered.

"You need a lot more tutoring in ancient Greek, Hairball," Annabeth admitted. "But… I might be going to my dad's for the school year."

The others all stared at her in shock.

"I said might," she grumbled. "I could end up teaching Harry ancient Greek and history. So don't give me those looks!"

The others decided not to push the issue.

HPJHPJHPJ

Before Harry knew it, it was Fourth of July. As a British person, he didn't know if he was allowed to celebrate this particular holiday as it was essentially a celebration of Great Britain's impeding defeat and/or failure in retaining the thirteen colonies. In the end Harry decided 'when in Rome' and went down to the beach with everyone else.

Hephaestus' kids put on a spectacular fireworks display. From a barge anchored offshore missile-sized rockets were launched into the sky to explode. His friends, who had seen it in prior years, told Harry that the explosions would be so tightly scheduled that they would turn into moving displays of past events.

Harry sat on a blanket by himself. Sure, all his friends had offered a place with them and their respective half-siblings but Harry felt like being by himself. Lying down, Harry wished he had someone to have noticed his absence in his reality. Percy had his mom and Grover, but he had no one. No parents, no caring relatives, no friends. He was all alone.

Above him the display began: Heracles killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (apparently a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware. The finale was a pair of giant Spartan warriors battling before bursting into a million sparks in dozens of colors. Harry stretched out and fell asleep under the stars. That made him feel like being insignificant was okay, was normal.

When he woke up to a cool, foggy morning Harry realized he was under a quartet of blankets- a grey one, a red one, and two patched brown ones. Sitting up, he smiled wistfully at the idea that he had to go to another world entirely to find a place where he belonged.

HPJHPJHPJ

Harry crossed down the days until his eleventh birthday. Two weeks after that, his physical body would turn twelve. In the meantime, he helped Annabeth and Clarisse hash out an alliance between their three cabins. Luke had backed out of allying Hermes' cabin with Athena to form the head of a new group, which was soon joined by Dionysus' twins and Aphrodite's kids. The remaining cabins were just waiting to see how this all played out before making any decisions.

Harry got even better at canoeing and started to get the hang of archery. He still avoided the climbing wall, though. One day, however, he climbed up to the roof of the Poseidon cabin. Staring up at the fluffy white clouds Harry found himself wondering about the prophecy he had received from the Oracle at the beginning of the summer, before his quest.

_You shall go west, and face the god who turned._

He had certainly done that, going all the way across the USA and facing Ares about his betrayal with some help from Clarisse.

_You shall find what was stolen, and see it safe returned._

Both the master bolt and the Helm of Darkness had been found and restored to their rightful owners. Harry half-wondered why nothing of Poseidon's had been stolen, unless maybe who had arranged for the thefts had also caused the switch between him and Percy.

_You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend._

As near as Harry could figure, this line still referred to Ares since the war god had acted friendly but had been only framing them.

_And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end._

Harry couldn't shake the feeling that this line actually meant something he was supposed to do in his world rather than Percy's.

Still, Harry's head kept aching on and off while he found himself looking over his shoulder. For what, he had no clue.

"Oi, Hairball! Sparring time!" Clarisse shouted up at him. Harry jumped down, saluting the older girl.

"Ready, blood brat."

Clarisse just shook her head and dragged him off to the arena despite Harry being perfectly willing to go fight with swords.

On Harry's birthday there was a chocolate cake up at the Big House. Teal balloons and streamers decorated the living room, and to Harry's surprise there was a cluster of presents on the coffee table. All the other cabin counselors were there: Katie, Clarisse, Annabeth, Lee, Beckendorf, Silena, Luke, and both Castor and Pollux. Chiron was supervising, and toasted Harry with his glass of root beer.

"To a brave mortal indeed."  
>The other counselors raised their glasses as well, making Harry blush. As they ate, Katie suggested, "We ought to decide what this summer's bead should be."<p>

"It definitely has to involve their quest," Lee insisted. "I mean: To the Underworld, Three demigods went on a quest, To find Zeus' lightning."

"Again with the haikus?" sighed Beckendorf, a tall and solidly built African-American teenager. Lee just shrugged, clearly pleased with his poem. Then Beckendorf acknowledged, "But you're right- it should focus on the quest."

All the counselors except Annabeth, Clarisse, and Harry nodded their heads. Silena commented, "The bead itself should be black, to represent the Underworld."

"Good idea," agreed Beckendorf, glancing sidelong at the Aphrodite cabin counselor. As for Silena, she blushed at his approval, making Harry give Annabeth a confused look.

"A bronze trident for Poseidon?" asked Katie.

Harry grabbed a piece of paper and sketched his scar onto it. "No. A lightning bolt like this one- I have a scar like this on my real forehead."

"He kept drawing it on himself like a screwed up version of a security blanket," Clarisse confirmed. "But yeah, this was a quest to get back a lightning bolt. If Percy was really here, maybe a trident, but as it is…"

"Lightning," Annabeth backed up the other girl. "Bronze or gold?"

"Bronze, 'cause that's what our weapons are," Luke said firmly.

"So it is decided then?" asked Chiron to confirm this summer's bead's design. "A black bead with a bronze lightning bolt on it?"

"Yes," chorused the cabin counselors.

HPJHPJHPJ

Before Harry knew it, the final night of the summer camp session had arrived. Everyone had a final dinner together, burning part of their meals for the gods. At the bonfire, the cabin counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. Chiron gave Harry his own leather necklace, complete with the bead they had previously decided on.

Luke declared, "The choice was unanimous. This bead commemorates the mortal with the son of the Sea God's power at this camp, the first fully mortal camper, and the quest he and his allies undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

All of Camp Half-Blood got to their feet and cheered. Annabeth and Clarisse were guided to the front so they could share in the applause. Harry turned bright pink from the attention, finding himself wanting to retreat to the background.

Tomorrow the number of campers would decrease drastically, but Harry would like the time to try to be a normal camper. After waking up early the next morning, Harry went down to the sword arena to practice more with Riptide. The sword still felt wrong in his hands; it was clearly intended for Percy Jackson, not Harry Potter. Everyone seemed to be inside, packing up and/or cleaning up for final inspections. Argus was hauling some fancy suitcases for the Aphrodite kids over the hill, where the camp's shuttle was waiting to take the summer demigods back home.

Luke was already training when Harry arrived, his gym bag at the edge of the stage. He was working alone, slicing off battle dummies' heads and jabbing their straw-stuffed shirts with a sword Harry didn't recognize. His orange T-shirt was dripping with sweat, and Luke's expression was intense like he was really in battle. Harry watched from the arena's outskirts as Luke disemboweled all the battle dummies in a row, reducing them to piles of straw and armor. Harry gulped, re-realizing just how good of a fighter Luke was. And Harry didn't even have a sword that felt right in his hands.

Quietly Harry approached with a mild, "Hi."

"Hey. Just doing some last-minute practice," Luke explained, lowering his sword.

"I noticed," Harry replied, eyeing Luke's sword. It was strange- one edge was bronze but the other was steel. Luke saw Harry looking.

"Oh, this? Yeah, new toy. This is Backbiter."

"Odd name."

Turning the blade so it glinted dangerously in the sunlight Luke told Harry, "One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both."

Harry recollected that harming mortals ought to be avoided but instead commented, "I didn't know weapons like Backbiter existed."

"It's one of a kind," Luke acknowledged. As he slid Backbiter into its scabbard he offered, "Listen, I was going to look for you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?"

Harry thought it over. Luke had been a little distant since he had returned from his quest, so maybe he was trying to make up for that. "Okay."

"Great, I got Cokes," Luke told him, tugging out a six-pack of the red cans from his gym bag. "So drinks are on me."

Together they went down to the woods and walked around looking for a monster to fight. But it was too hot, and most monsters must have been tucked away in their cool caves. Luke found a shady spot near the creek where Harry and Clarisse had fought during Capture the Flag. They sat on big rocks, drank their Cokes, and watched the creek gurgle by.

Out of the silence Luke asked a question. "You miss being on a quest?"

"With monsters attacking every day? Impending doom? Not really," Harry sighed. Then he amended, "But it was fun. You?"

A shadow crossed Luke's face, making him appear weary and angry. His blonde hair looked faded and grey in the light, and his facial scar seemed to deepen. Softly he told Harry, "I've lived here year-round since I was fourteen, since Thalia… well, you know. I trained and trained and trained. I never got to be a normal teenager, out there in the real world."

"Being normal isn't all it's cracked up to be- trust me, I know that from my time with the Dursleys."

Luke snorted. "Yeah, but I got one quest and when I got back it was all 'have a nice life'. The heck with laurel wreaths- I'm not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic."

He crumpled his Coke can and threw it into the creek. That got Harry a little worried about how nymphs really disliked littering, but that wasn't the important thing right now. "Are you leaving camp?"

With a twisted smile Luke informed him, "Oh, I'm leaving, all right, Harry. I brought you down here to say good-bye."

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at Harry's feet. Out crawled a glistening black scorpion the size of Harry's hand. When Harry reached for his pen Luke cautioned him, "I wouldn't. Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You'll be dead in sixty seconds."

Harry felt cold as he figured it out- Luke was the betrayer from his prophecy. He asked in a distant voice, "Why? Why did you do it?"

The teenager stood up and brushed off his jeans calmly, the scorpion ignoring him. Its beady dark eyes were focused on Harry, clamping its pincers as it crawled onto his sneaker.

Luke said, "I saw a lot out there in the world. Didn't you feel it, Harry: the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics- being pawns of the gods. They should have been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they've hung on thanks to half-bloods. And you, you who should have known better, sided with them."

"Like destroying everything they've done will fix anything?" demanded Harry, not daring to move anything except his mouth.

"Please, their beloved Western Civilization is a disease. It's killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest."

"No."

His eyes flashed. "If I had time, Harry, I could explain. But I'm afraid you won't live that long."

Harry watched the scorpion climb onto his pants leg. He needed time. "You serve Kronos, don't you?"

The air chilled.

"You should be careful with names," Luke warned Harry.

The words spilled out of Harry as it all fell together. "Kronos got you to steal the master bolt and the helm of darkness. He spoke to you in your dreams."

"He spoke to you as well, Harry. You should have listened."

"He tricked you like he tried to trick me." When Luke opened his mouth, Harry overrode him. "How did you steal the items? Why didn't you just give them to Kronos?"

"I just snuck into the throne room and took them. The Olympians are so arrogant; they never dreamed someone would dare steal from them, so their security stank. I got halfway across New Jersey before the storms started rumbling from Zeus learning of the theft."

The scorpion was climbing up Harry's leg towards his knee but he ignored it as Luke continued his story.

"I- I got overconfident. Zeus sent his godly children to find the stolen bolt, and Ares caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn't careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, threatened to return them to Mount Olympus, and burn me alive. Kronos stepped in then, told me what to say to convince Ares to hide the items while his father and uncle fought. I returned to Olympus before anyone noticed I was gone."

Luke gulped as he drew Backbiter and stared at the blade as if mesmerized. "The Lord of Titans punished me with nightmares afterwards. I swore not to fail again. He foretold your arrival and how you could be used."

Harry gave Luke a baleful stare, deliberately ignoring the scorpion on his knee. The burning anger at Luke's betrayal was even worse. Luke had sent the hellhound after him and must have cursed the shoes to drag him to Kronos.

"Thalia gave her _life_ to protect yours and Annabeth's. Is this really how she would have wanted you to act?" questioned Harry.

Luke snarled at him, "Don't speak of her to me! Her death is one of the matters the gods will pay for. I must go- my lord is waiting, and he's got plenty of new quests for me to go on."

"Then go," spat out Harry, meeting Luke's eyes. "Just go."

Slashing his sword in an arc, Luke vanished in a ripple of darkness. Then the scorpion lunged, making Harry trip backward, throwing his left arm up as he used Riptide in the other to slice it in half.

Already feeling a bit woozy, Harry stared at his arm, which had a huge red welt. It was oozing and smoking with yellow goo. His vision blurred, as when he took off his glasses back when he was himself, and his body throbbed in pain. Stumbling, Harry made his way to the creek.

He tumbled into it, but the pain only got worse. Harry tried to think of a way to get back to camp before he collapsed and died- they had to know the truth. But he felt woozy when he stood, clinging to a nearby tree for support.

Curious nymphs emerged from their trees. Harry begged hoarsely, "Help me… please…"

Two took his arms, pulling him along out of the forest. Harry could barely realize that they had made it out, with Silena shouting for help and the sound of a conch horn. Seconds later, everything went black for him.

HPJHPJHPJ

When Harry woke up, he was drinking treacle flavored nectar. He was propped up in a bed in the sickroom of the Big House, his left arm wrapped up in bandages. Clarisse was standing guard in the corner, leaning on a new electric spear. Annabeth was the one holding the glass of nectar, sitting on a chair next to Harry's bed.

"You moron," she told him. "Harry, you were green and grey when we found you. If it wasn't for Chiron's skill at healing…"

Annabeth gulped and shared an anxious look with Clarisse. Harry didn't like the reminder of how close he had come to death.

"Now, now," Chiron said as he rolled into the room, back in his human disguise. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit. Or should I say Harry's?"

"Percy's; this is his body," shrugged Harry.

With a concerned smile Chiron asked, "How are you feeling?"

Harry thought it over. "I'm not dead."

Clarisse snorted in amusement at that. Chiron gave her a severe look. "That was pit scorpion venom. Now tell us, if you can, what exactly happened."

Harry told them between sips of nectar, taking the glass into his good hand. Afterwards, there was silence for a long time.

"I can't believe that Luke would, would…" Annabeth tripped over her words. Then her expression hardened. "Actually, yes I can. Curse him… he was never the same after his quest."

"This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron muttered. "I will go at once."

"We need to go after Luke. Let's go pack," demanded Clarisse.

"No," frowned Chiron. "We must not rush out for vengeance. We are unprepared, blast it all. Steps must be made to halt any more plots of the Crooked One."

Quietly Harry asked, "Is there a prophecy about Percy I'm going to have to do in his place?"

Chiron looked exhausted. "I cannot tell you, the gods have forbidden it. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."

"All right," went Harry quietly, aware he couldn't argue with that viewpoint. "So what can we do?"

"For now, I must report to Mount Olympus," sighed Chiron, rolling towards the door. "Later? You shall train, Harry Potter."

But before going he told Annabeth, "And, my dear… whenever you're ready, they're here."

"Who?" wondered Harry and Clarisse as the sounds of Chiron's wheelchair faded away.

Annabeth didn't meet their eyes for a while. "I'm going home for the year. When we got back, I wrote him a letter saying I was sorry and I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back the same day he got the letter. I'm- we're going to see if my dad and I can work things out."

"You should," said Harry. "Because trust me, I'd give anything to have my parents back."

"You two won't get up to anything stupid while I'm gone, right?"

"Can we do stupid stuff if we team up with the Stoll brothers?" joked Clarisse.

"Trouble finds us rather than the other way around," grumbled Harry. "And can I leave this bed now?"

"That's not such a good idea…" began Annabeth but Clarisse overrode her. "He can use Maimer here as a cane. Hairball is a tough little guy."

Fighting the nausea Harry made his way to the front porch using the electric spear heavily, Clarisse and Annabeth at his side. Near Thalia's tree was a family: a woman, two small children, and a tall man with blonde hair. Harry guessed they would be Annabeth's dad, her stepmom, and her two little half-siblings

Clarisse punched her in the arm. "Let us come visit sometime if things get bumpy, all right?"

"All right," Annabeth agreed, rubbing her arm. "Next summer- even if we don't get a quest, let's go out and find Luke."

"I like that plan. But then, you always do have a good plan, huh, Annabeth?" snorted Clarisse. "See ya, bird brain."

"See ya, blood brat. Bye, Hairball," Annabeth said her good-byes. Then she walked up the hill to join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug, gave the valley one last look, touched Thalia's pine tree, and then let herself go down the other side of the hill to the mortal world.

Clarisse sighed heavily. "Capture the Flag is going to be so dull with so few players now…"

"Eh, we'll think of something to do until next summer," Harry grinned as he handed her back Maimer. "I mean, we are demigods, after all."

"We are, aren't we?"

"Yes, yes we are. Now come on, blood brat," Harry told her. "Let's start preparing for battle."

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><p><span>Preview for Harry Potter and the Sea of Monsters:<span>

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><p><strong>The past year has been surprisingly quiet for Harry Potter. So of course he uses this time to go find a sword that actually works for him. But when an ugly gang of cannibals decide to play a deadly game of dodgeball things get… ugly. And the unexpected arrival of his friend Clarisse brings more bad news: the magical borders that protect Camp Half-Blood have been poisoned by a mysterious enemy, and unless a cure is found, the only safe haven for demigods will be destroyed.<strong>

**In the sequel to The Lightning Thief, Harry and his friends journey into the Sea of Monsters to save their camp. But first Harry must learn that the Greek gods might not be the only immortal players in this world…**


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